Blood On Our Hands
by RedParadiseLost
Summary: Three weeks had gone by since the events in CA:TWS. After a botched mission, Natasha is sent to a safe house. She is trying to lay low and come to terms with her past and her relationship to the Winter Soldier. Until he finds her. (Bucky x Natasha)
1. A Mission Gone Bad

**Warning: This story is rated M for violence and adult situations.  
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**Summary: Natasha is still trying to come to terms with having to fight off the Winter Soldier, her former mentor from the Red Room, who almost killed her. She has to deal with severe PTSD involving him from her past. The Winter Soldier is drawn to her, despite not knowing why at first. He is still a ruthless, cold killer with a plan in mind. The story follows their reconnecting and and rekindling of their former relationship.  
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**Contains the universe of CA:TWS and some comic book elements of Natasha's and Winter Soldier's past and lot of the author's imagination. There might be some canon errors, but I wasn't all up to speed on their comic history.**

**Another disclaimer/warning: I write Black Widow rather vulnerable and Winter Soldier dominating.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

23:11 - Avalon Apartment Building, Washington, D.C.

She caught her reflection on the highly polished marble wall of the elevator. She noted without a surprise just how tired her eyes looked, even with all that makeup on. Sleep had been eluding her the past few weeks, and it was starting to show, physically and emotionally. The massive SHIELD downfall and its consequences had been extremely taxing on her. She was getting used to seeing empty eyes and hollowed cheeks looking back at her from the mirrors.

At times, she felt like she entered a catatonic state of mind. Mindlessly walking, doing menial tasks, anything to keep her distracted.

She was trying her hardest to not think about the day that SHIELD crumbled and all the chaos and deaths it had caused.

Caused by him.

She took a deep breath and looked at the other girls in the humming elevator, zipping up the high rise building. They were chatting excitedly amongst each other. Ignorance can be a bliss sometimes, she thought with a tinge of envy.

Her face had been frozen in a polite smile, it went with the outfit she was wearing. Her blonde curls were falling softly over her naked shoulders and the extremely short dress was hugging her curves. It didn't leave much to anyone's imagination.

Her hand went to her mouth to suppress a yawn.

She arched her back slightly, to perk out her cleavage even more. That's where she wanted to draw attention, away from her face. The other four girls burst out into loud giggling over something that she had missed. Natasha laughed with them.

All of them were young, good looking, flirty. Dressed like they were about to go out into an expensive, high class nightclub. These naive girls had no idea who this man they were about to meet, really was, she thought with pity.

With a ding the elevator got to a stop, top floor. All five of them stepped out into an open, bright and lavishly furnished hallway. Intricate gold-leaved stucco ran along the walls and heavy chandeliers shone down on them from 15 foot ceilings. She felt the excitement of the other four girls at the sight of this.

Time to put on a show. Natasha was starting to feel excited herself.

"Hey, tell the boss the girls are here!" She heard a male voice yell. Two bulky and tough looking bodyguards greeted them. They were keeping their hands discreetly near their holstered guns, hidden under their black suit jackets, she observed. "Right along here, ladies."

She put on a saccharine smile as she followed the group. Ornate columns flanked the corners of the halls, with smaller hallways leading in different directions. The marbled floor echoed under the clicking of their high heels.

000

She had put herself onto an invitation to one of the biggest penthouses in Downtown Washington D.C. and, of course, it would belong to a scumbag with strong HYDRA connections. He had somehow gone undiscovered yet in the huge file leak, three weeks ago. But she was about to change that.

The giant SHIELD meltdown and the subsequent destruction of their HQ was still very fresh in her mind. Natasha had not expected, and definitely not wanted, to go on any mission that soon, especially after all her covers had been blown. But Nick had insisted, and he could be good at that.

She was about to follow the other girls into one of the rooms, when one of the security guards grabbed her arm. He pulled her close and put his mouth on her ear, feeling his hot breath "When the boss is done with you, you should come party with me for a little bit. I can give you an even better time" His hand was on her butt, squeezing.

It took Natasha all her willpower, but she just looked at him with big eyes. "Oh baby," she whispered back in her raspy voice. "I can't wait." her lips were pressed into a tight smile.

He gave her one more squeeze, then grinned stupidly at her and let her go.

She went through the main doors, where the girls had vanished into the dim room. It was a huge, furnished purely for entertainment. Music was playing in the background and she made out several big sectionals, a bar and pool tables among an exotic interior, complete with potted palm trees and a huge fake waterfall on the back wall. A bartender was working the bar and she took note of three security guards in different corners of the room. The girls were already swarming around the big guy, Aleksandrov, and two of his business friends. He looked fat and puffy, sitting on the couch, sweat running down his face, as he was throwing two girls at once on his lap. Vodka had been flowing freely already. That will make it easier.

She mingled for a little bit, making idle conversation with him and his partners. Aleksandrov was loud and vulgar. She was feigning interest in what he had to say, posing only as a pretty face that was overcome with awe at his incredible wealth. But she subtly kept her distance and let the other girls distract these russian billionaire playboys. About 45 minutes in, she finally noticed the security men relax slightly, even taking shots of vodka when the boss wasn't looking.

Aleksandrov had a blonde on his lap and was fully engulfed in her, with his hands all over her body. Natasha decided to excuse herself to the bathroom, but nobody was paying attention to her. She walked out in the hallway and slid along the walls.

"I'm in, do you copy?" She whispered. The tiny bug in her ear came to life. "Copy. I got your location. The access terminal should be two rooms down and on your right." Murry, the SHIELD agent on the other end informed her.

She made her way towards that door. Looking over her shoulder, she twisted the door knob and stepped into the dark room.

"Hey, what the fuck... who are you?" An angry male voice greeted her.

She hadn't expected anyone to be in here, but now she had to deal with him.

"Oh, I was just looking for the bathroom." An innocent look on her face. She let her vision adjust to the dim light, and noticed several laptops on desks along the wall. Bingo.

The angry guy had jumped up from his chair and was coming towards her, hand on his gun. "Get the fuck ou-" She kicked him square in the throat and he dropped like a dead weight. There was a second guy sitting on one of the tables to her right. He had just started to process what was happening, when she was on him, slipping a knife in his neck. She felt it slice along his spinal cord, severing the nerves. He was dead before he could make a sound. "Amateurs" she murmured, without pity, as she grabbed a chair and pulled up to one of the laptops.

Her ear bug crackled. "You have two minutes from the time you start the extraction, anything beyond two and HYDRA will be able to track you." the SHIELD agent on the other end reminded her.

"Here we go then."

For some reason, this fat bastard was in possession of critical HYDRA files. She didn't know why, Fury hadn't told her. She was only tasked with extracting them.

She used one of her hacks to get access to the database, the first chunk was easily decrypted. She started copying everything on a tiny USB stick, which she had smuggled in on her dress, her hands typing on the keyboard as file names were flashing in front of her.

The progress bar filled up fast, then slowed and stopped at 93%. There were two files that had an extra level of security, she noticed with growing concern.

"Dammit." Her hands were flying now. The order she had been given, was to copy absolutely everything.

"60 seconds, Romanov"

"Yeah, hold on." She tried a few different algorithms, nothing.

"Why the hell is it not working.." she mumbled to herself.

She tried it from a different angle, running a self inserting hack, that would open her a backdoor. She glanced at her watch. A trickle of sweat began to appear on her forehead.

Then, finally the hack found a match and it cracked the file open. It started copying

"15 seconds, you have to wrap things up."

The transfer was going slow, her eyes darting from her watch to the progress bar.

"Five seconds, shut it down now!" The file name 'Project 00012464 W.S.' flashed up on her screen for a split second and then it was done.

"Got it."

"You cut it close, they possibly got your location. Be on guard." Agent Murry's voice. Natasha got up and snug back into the hallway. The bodyguard from earlier was just rounding the corner, tugging his shirt in, and saw her.

"Hey, there you are!" He half walked and stumbled towards her, grinning. "Hot little thing. Come here." She could smell Vodka on him as he grabbed her, shoving her into the wall. He leaned in and his hands went exploring up her dress. Natasha let him, then threw her arms around his neck. Her lips brushed next to his ear.

"I've got something special for you." She whispered.

His smile froze. She withdrew her arms and he clasped his hands on the back of his neck, eyes wide in shock. As he fell to his knees, she stepped lightly around him, pulling the knife out of his spinal cord. She turned back around and removed the gun from his corpse as well, before sprinting to the elevator.

She pressed the button for the lobby. The doors were closing endlessly slow. A commotion had started in the hallway, footsteps coming her way. She shot the first guy she saw before the elevator closed for good.

Her heart was beating fast. They had been alerted. She inspected the rounds left in the gun, it was fully loaded.

Why had she agreed to this in the first place, she sighed, pulling the blonde wig from her head. "I'm in the elevator." she said out loud and kicked off her high heels.

"We spotted some activity around the front entrance. Try and leave through the back, we'll have an armored car waiting for you." the voice in her ear.

She halted the elevator on the 10th floor and ran down the flight of stairs for the rest. The door on the bottom opened to an empty wing of the lobby. She carefully looked around before leaving the staircase, then ran along the walls, following the exit signs. Just a few more turns ahead.

Someone grabbed her by the arm and swung her around

"I got the bitch! Over here" a voice yelled out to his partner. In one swift motion, Natasha kicked him between the legs and used him as a meat shield. The second guard rounded the corner, shooting, she shot him first, then sent a bullet into the guy in front of her.

Almost there. She was running barefoot through the last stretch of the hallway. Finally, the emergency exit door came into her view, when the wall near her head exploded. Something hot grazed the side of her thigh. She flew behind a door frame for cover, as more bullets were hitting the walls and floor around her.

"Backup is on the way, keep down!" the agent yelled in her ear.

HYDRA members were swarming out from the main lobby, towards her location. She aimed her gun at them and shot twice, hitting one of them. She waited, listening for their footsteps. There were at least three. When the first guy came into her field of vision, she slid out in front him, hit his legs and took him down, then finished him off with her last bullet. She ripped the automatic rifle from his dying hands and started shooting towards the others, who were now ducking for cover.

The exit door behind her exploded, Natasha whirled around. SHIELD agents streamed in. Chaos enfolded, gunshots and screams made her ears ring. They kept yelling at her to get out, which she finally complied with, after the noise had died down and dead HYDRA members were scattering the floors.

She made her way out of the smoldering exit and walked towards one of the black vans parked just outside.

The sliding door opened.

Agent Maria Hill stuck her head out, the look on her face livid. "What the hell happened in there, Romanov." Maria was fuming. "I did not expect this to end in a disaster!"

Natasha grunted as she jumped in.

Maria barked at her as she slid the door shut. "Did you at least get the file, before you went on your little killing spree?"

Natasha had never seen her that angry, she only knew her as the self composed, rational thinking, right-hand of Fury. Maybe everyone had been on the edge too much the last weeks and it was finally boiling over.

Maria kept pressuring her. "Had I not made clear that I didn't want to involve my team in your mission? You forced me to risk their lives."

"I got the file, Agent Hill. And I can hold my own, I didn't need your help." Natasha snapped back, annoyed herself now.

"We'll take the USB stick from here." Maria snatched it from her hands. She mustered Natasha up and down, examining. "You are bleeding. I'll have you transported to a safe E.R. Nick will have to wait on your report"

Natasha leaned back into her seat and closed her eyes.


	2. On Her Tracks

Natasha woke up with a start in a hospital bed.

It took her only a second to go from foggy sleep to being wide awake. It was part of her training, something that came to her naturally.

Daylight was filtering through the half-closed blinds and she saw dust particles dancing in the air.

Her throat was dry and a flash of pain erupted behind her eyes when she turned her head. She tried moving her arms and legs. Everything was working. Good. She just felt incredibly sore. Despite her sedated sleep, she couldn't shake the tiredness and all she wanted now was to crawl back under the thin cover and sleep. Sleep for a long time.

Instead she sat up straight with a slow exhale, pressing her teeth together, and threw her cover off. They had put her into one of those ugly, uncomfortable hospital gowns, she noticed with dismay.

Tugging on the side of it, she revealed a bandaged right thigh. They had given her stitches last night, or was it this morning? She couldn't remember exactly, it was all a blur to her. She touched the bandaged area. The wound didn't feel painful, it was more like a thudding pressure.

"I need to stop getting shot" she mumbled to herself, red hair falling messily in her face.

She heard voices outside in the hallway, then the door flew open. Agent Hill walked in, alone. "Ah, good, you're up."

Natasha gave her an annoyed look. She respected Maria, but that woman could be difficult to deal with, especially after her outburst last night in the car. She was sure the feeling was mutual. Natasha was used to doing things her way, which clashed with Maria being a stickler to rules and policies.

Agent Hill sure liked having everything in control, Natasha thought. She might make a fine Nick Fury Jr. one day.

"The doc told me that you got lucky. The bullet only grazed your leg." Hill stepped next to her. She looked down at her with a neutral expression. She had her emotions back in check, Natasha noticed. There was no trace of the anger from last night on her face.

"It's nothing." Natasha swung her legs out of the bed.

"Well," Maria answered, stepping aside to giver her some room. "Take it easy either way. Nick got the files, but he really wants a word with you. I told him to wait until tomorrow, since you are still recovering."

"I said I'm fine. I can see him right now." Natasha was getting annoyed again. Maria had a talent to do that. She just kept rubbing her the wrong the way, especially right this second.

"Just take the evening off. You might want to rest a bit." Agent Hill looked at her. "By the way, he's extremely pissed."

"What else is new?" Natasha tested the strength of her legs, they felt good enough to hold her up.

"You will have to explain what happened last night. Also, I had some of your clothes brought in, they are in the closet. An SUV is waiting for you in the parking lot, whenever you feel strong enough to leave." Maria stepped back to the door and put her hand on the handle. "We expect you in the West Office tomorrow at nine." She turned and left on that note.

Natasha glared silently at the closed door. Not that she had expected a Thank You, she knew the mission had gone sour, but she didn't expect this crap either.

She put on her clothes, checked out of her room and hailed a cab.

* * *

03:35 - Parkside Apartment Complex

A metallic arm was slowly crushing his throat. David Julien desperately pawed at hit, kicking out, thrashing, but the grip stayed hard. "Please..." he croaked, craning his neck to see what was holding him in place.

Two dark, indifferent eyes looked back at him.

He had been sleeping in his bed, when he was suddenly hauled out and thrown across his bedroom. He was confused and utterly scared, still shaking off the foggy remnants of his sleep. He looked into his attacker's face.

Oh god.

He recognized it. It was the man from the Helicarrier disaster, the guy who everyone was calling the Winter Soldier.

David gasped for air, as the grip ever tightened. He felt tendons ripping inside his throat. "What... you...?" was all he was able to get out. Tears started streaming down his face, he wanted to plead for his life, but couldn't form the words.

The Winter Soldier cocked his head at him. "I need access to a file. Can you do that?" he asked him nonchalant. As if asking asking what the weather report for tomorrow looked like.

David's last bit of air was cut off, when a thumb pressed right under adams apple. Immediately, wild panic settled in, he thrashed out his legs, clawing at the hand in sheer terror, fighting for his life.

The Soldier only looked on, with mild curiosity. Eric's vision was turning black. At last, he started nodding as fervently as he could. When suddenly, he could breath again, as he fell to the floor. He filled his lungs with big gulps of air. A hand grabbed him painfully by his hair and dragged over to his work station, where he was roughly thrown into his chair.

The Winter Soldier stepped behind him, drawing a knife, holding it against his throat.

"Pull up information on Natasha Romanov's location."

Eric trembled. "A-agent Romanov?" His throat was barely working, radiating blazing hot pain and it blurred his vision. The knife began cutting into his skin. His hands flew over the keyboard, entering all security passcodes that popped up. Tears still streaming freely. He wouldn't be able to access her whole file, not from his home. The most important parts were stored only within the SHIELD base network. Nonetheless, he pulled up what he could. Her I.D. photo appeared on screen, along with sub folders full of data.

The Winter Soldier leaned forward, now interested.

"Please, I will not tell-" his voice cut off when his throat was opened from side to side. He bled out quickly. The Winter Soldier knocked him off the chair and started reading.


	3. Solitude

08:53 - West Office - Temporary SHIELD HQ

She had spend the night tossing and turning, replaying over and over what had happened in the penthouse. Natasha knew she had messed up by taking too long to get the file. Well, and then going on a killing rampage, compromising the mission. Her stomach felt hollow when she stepped into the elevator that would take her up to Nick Fury's office, and mentally prepared for a harsh reprimanding.

The West Office had been a minor branch of SHIELD, but since the destruction of the Triskelion, all SHIELD operations in the greater D.C. area had migrated to the much smaller office building. It was still in disarray, agents, security guards and technicians were flitting through the hallways, some were shooting glances in her direction. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt deeper in her face. She wasn't in mood for conversation. Not at all.

All true members of SHIELD that were left, and alive, had gathered here and were now working to establish a temporary base. It would take a long time to rebuild what they had lost. There was much to gather and sort through from the rubbles of the Triskelion. Not to mention the massive file leak she had initiated. They were trying to trace and recover a lot of highly critical intel that had made it to the internet, and then find a way to make it disappear again.

Natasha felt that something big had shifted in their organization. Things obviously weren't the same anymore. She wasn't the same.

Dressed in a simple jeans and thin hoodie, along with her favorite leather jacket, she knocked on his door.

"Step right in, Agent" his loud voice boomed. "I am glad to see you gracing us with your presence."

Natasha walked in and sat down across his desk, ignoring the sarcasm. "Agent Hill said you wanted to talk to me."

Nick was seated behind his massive desk, under a huge beaten up SHIELD logo sign, that they must have pulled from the ruins. He mustered her for a second, then leaned forward, his eyes piercing her. "Well, agent, would you be so kind to explain how the HELL this mission turned into such a disaster?" Cutting right to the matter.

She started, but he interrupted her. "I entrusted you with a SUBTLE file extraction. Now we have 12 dead Hydra members and the MAIN target of this whole operation is on the run. Aleksandrov got away that night. Please, Agent Romanov, explain that."

She glared back at him, pressing her lips together. "Sir, you wanted that file and I brought it to you. That was my main concern. I.."

"Your concern? Let me tell you what concerns me. I don't need HYDRA being informed about the When and Where of our missions. And this is exactly what is happening. Our main target got away."

"I can track him d-"

"You will do no such thing, Romanov! We have other problems on hand. SHIELD is in a fragile state at the moment and I need every agent to fully cooperate with me, understood? I will NOT lose any more lives on my watch "

Maria had not been exaggerating, she had never seen him this angry. She wasn't going to give him a smart lip, this wasn't the time and place.

"Yes, sir" she sighed.

He looked at her with glowing eyes. "Your mission was a botch job and that is something we don't have time for."

Natasha stayed silent, there was nothing she could say to her defense.

"You are usually better than this, agent." Nick harshly reminded her. "Is there something that is keeping you from doing your job?"

Natasha's eyes shifted to her side, not looking at him.

"I realize the last weeks have been excruciating, for all of us." He continued. "But I would rather you be honest with me."

Still, she said nothing. She was not ready to delve into her own problems right this moment.

Fury noticed her turmoil, there was something she was keeping from him, it was plain obvious. He realized it had been a mistake to send her on that last mission. She clearly wasn't ready yet, and something was distracting her, eating her up.

And he had a hunch about what it was.

Nick cleared his throat, his eyes softening a bit. It took him a moment before he spoke again.

"Natasha, you are familiar with Agent Murry, yes?

She looked up, her eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, of course. He was my contact two nights ago."

"He was found dead, last night."

"What?" She jumped in her seat.

"I am sorry to have to inform you this way. He was shot dead in his apartment. As well as his wife." He let this sink in for a moment. She could only stare.

Nick sighed and rubbed a hand over his temples. "He had a cover name and his apartment was partly SHIELD secured, and still they managed to find and intrude him."

"How did that happen?" Natasha felt upset, but at the same time empty, she had liked Murry. "Why him, he didn't pose a threat."

"This is not all, unfortunately. Agent Julien was discovered dead this morning as well. He was a high level security admin." Nick paused to watch her reaction. She had a hand clasped on her mouth.

Her stomach was in knots. "Nick, what is this about? What is going on?" The news truly confused her, it was rare for agents to get murdered privately like this.

He had gotten quiet, no trace of anger now. "We suspect, that someone is targeting high ranking SHIELD officers and is taking them out, one by one."

Her eyes went wide.

"And there has been a connection between the two deceased." He paused. "Julien's last login show that he had accessed a personal file. Your file."

Natasha was speechless.

"Whoever committed the murders, is specifically targeting you. They were trying to extract information about you."

She shook her head "Why me?"

Nick looked down at his hands for a moment, when he looked back up, concern was written on his face. "We don't know for sure, Natasha. Someone wants you dead. This city has gone completely out of control and I can't protect everyone." He looked at her hard now. "I'm sorry, but I only have one solution to this right now. I need you to leave until we can get the situation under control. I can't afford to lose you or any more of my agents."

She was shocked. "Nick, I understand that you're upset, but this is not the first time that someone is after me."

"Like I said Natasha, I will have no more deaths under my watch. I want you out of the city for the time being. I will have a safe house set up for you, up north. Only you and I will know about this. I want you to go there immediately, lay low, and wait for further instructions."

"You cant be serious, Nick."

"I am dead serious. Your life and that of others are in danger. I need you out of the picture right now. It is too dangerous."

"Absolutely not. I don't run from-"

"Agent Romanov!" He bashed his hands on the table. "There will be no argument, this is a direct order. Do you understand?"

"...Yes, sir." Natasha folded her arms. She was pissed. She somewhat understood his point, but hated the idea of running away. That was not how she dealt with things. She looked up. "What information do you have on the group that is targeting us? Is it a HYDRA cell?"

He evaded her eyes. "At the time, we suspect that it is only one person"

She looked at him curiously. He suddenly seemed uncomfortable, a rare sight.

"Is that all?"

He rubbed his temple again and sighed before answering. "I don't have a 100% confirmation on it. But.. Everything points to the Winter Soldier." He looked her square in the eyes. "He has evaded capture so far. Despite Steve and Sam looking for him."

Her heart sank. She suddenly felt hot and cold, almost nauseous. She knew that he was still out there, ever since he jumped out of the Helicarrier, but .. Coming after her now? She didn't know what to say.

Nick's voice got quiet again. "I know you two have a history." Now looking at her almost sympathetically. "But this man is not the same that you or Steve knew."

"I think I am aware of that, Nick" She snapped, suddenly angry. Of course he had to bring that up. "I probably noticed around the time he shot me, and then almost killed Steve."

"Well," Fury, shifted in his seat and clasped his hands together. "I am sure you are also familiar with Roger's report? He accredits the Winter Soldier with pulling him out the Potmac. I can't say if he just bumped his head pretty hard, but he insists that this is the truth."

Nick folded his hands. "Either way. We don't know what is going on in this guy's brainwashed head. But we DO know that we have an unstable, trained-to-kill, super soldier lose in the city. And he wants you. Which I will not let happen. Agent Hill and her team will have you pick up some personal belongings after our talk. You will drive to the safe house, immediately, alone."

She chewed her lip. "I need to talk to Steve first."

"That would be unwise. Rogers is on a separate mission and I don't need him worrying about you. We are done talking, you have your orders Natasha." He pulled away from the desk.

Natasha hated the idea but she didn't argue back. Guilt was gnawing in her mind. Three innocent people had died because of her.

The thought of the Winter Soldier being after her gave her a hollow feeling, deep in her stomach. She didn't want to deal with this, not right now.

Nick gave her thin envelope that contained the brief for the safe location. Then she was allowed to go home and pack.

* * *

The wooden door unlocked, after twisting the key in the rusted lock a few times, and she kicked it open. Light flooded the dim, tiny cabin, illuminating the dust dancing in the air. A wave of old, wooden and moldy smell greeted her. Natasha wrinkled her nose.

"Great.."

She stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under her weight, and dropped her duffle bag, producing another dust cloud. She stopped and listened. There were birds chirping in the distance and she heard leaves softly rustling in a breeze, but aside from that, nothing. It felt unnaturally silent to her.

When Nick Fury had told her about a safe house outside of the city, she had envisioned something slightly different.

000

The drive up here had been a long five hours, leading her all the way to the outskirts of a national forest in Pennsylvania. The landscape had changed from bustling cities to smaller towns and fields, and finally turned into wooded mountains. She hadn't even seen a real town in the last two hours of her trip, only a small gas station here and there.

"Ahhh, the great outdoors." She said mockingly. Camping and hiking wasn't exactly her thing, but you was always up for trying something new.

Traveling without GPS or phone was strange at first. She had to completely rely on Nick's hand written instructions, which turned out to be extremely accurate, not that she expected anything less from a perfectionist like him. The paved road had first turned into gravel, and then on the last miles it was just a hardened dirt path, tangling through one of the great woods. She was glad for her 4 wheel drive.

Her trip had ended in front of this old fashioned log cabin. She had seen a couple others in the distance, from her car, but this one was miles away from any neighbors. Complete solitude. Enough to drive anyone crazy, she thought.

She rolled her eyes. Hiding her out here seemed just a tad excessive, but there was no backing out now. Nick would get back in touch with her, he had promised. On his insistence she had left her cell phone behind, but allowed her a small laptop.

Pulling it out of the bag, she knew that internet was out of the question. She set it on a dusty, wooden coffee table. It blinked to life, while she went back outside to the car for her backpack. When she came back in, she had to laugh.

"How the hell is that even possible.." she said to the empty cabin, half smiling.

The hotspot was picking up a 3G signal, it was weak, but definitely there. Maybe Nick hadn't just randomly picked this isolated spot. This would give her at least _something_ to do.

She opened the dusty curtains covering the tiny, dirty windows and took a good look around for the first time in the illuminated interior.

"Kitchy." Was the the first word that came to her mind. The cabin was obviously old, but it was furnished with some sort of replica, antique-looking furniture. Everything was made from wood, for that homey, old fashioned feel.

"I guess it could be worse.."

She walked from one end to the other, leaving dusty foot prints. Obviously nobody had been here in a while. Then stepped back outside and circled the little building. It was just plain, heavy log walls, not exactly exciting. That's when she saw it.

"Oh thank god.."

The cabin wasn't the true, historic, get-in-touch-with-nature kind, she saw with relief. It was retro-fitted with a generator in the back. She would have power if she needed it.

000

She walked back in and half-heartedly began to unpack her duffel bag. The long drive had given her time to think.

Too much time.

She had been trying hard to suppress her memories, since he had stepped back into her life. But ever since her talk with Fury this morning, did his face keep coming up in the back of her mind.

Pale, empty eyes were piercing her, and holding her in his gaze. He held her tight in his grasps, a knife dancing in front of her face.

No. She angrily shook her head to get rid of the mental picture.

He had come close to killing her on the freeway. She was completely aware that he had come after her first, instead of Steve. Desperately, she had mustered up all her courage and fought him. For a few minutes she actually held her ground and gave him a good resistance. At least long enough to get the civilians off the streets.

_She straddled his neck with her thighs, attempting to strangle him. He fought her off, throwing her into cars, only to come after her, relentlessly, when she used her electric shock disc._

But in the end he would defeat her.

In the back of her mind, she had known he would always come out as the winner. Still, Natasha didn't - _couldn't_ - back down. And almost paid with her life, had it not been for Steve.

She hated this monster. Hated him so much. She wasn't even sure exactly why she was feeling that way. Just thinking about him filled her with so much rage that her hands began to tremble.

She wanted nothing more than to kill him. Even if it meant-

A memory came crushing down on her with full force.

Her eyes flew open. It felt like someone had struck her in her face. _Malenkaya vdova._

_The Winter Soldier. The Red Room._

000

She was being led into an old ruin of a factory by one of her guides. The thick brick walls had partly crumbled, its high glass windows were blown out and she heard the wind howling through the hallways.

It was cold, so cold, and her stomach was in tight knots from hunger. She couldn't remember her last warm meal, it had been so long. She heard screams from within, the closer they got to the main room, the louder they became.

It was one of their secret training facilities and she had been promised that she would meet someone special today, a huge honor for someone as young as her.

They stepped into the big, wide room, which was lined with outdated production machinery. Trainers and young students were fighting on old, crumbling mats, sending the young ones on the floor, breaking their arms or legs if they didn't know how to defend themselves. There were fresh screams of pain as one young boy received an open broken arm, bone penetrating his skin.

Natasha swallowed and kept her head down.

000

She had been told to stand at attention and wait. Her eyes were on the floor, she was afraid to look at anyone. Heavy footsteps were coming down the room, they paused, changed direction and came towards her. It had become quiet in the room. She felt all eyes on her.

Combat boots appeared in her field of vision, she didn't dare to look up.

"I was told they would bring me a Black Widow in training, and this is what they send?" his voice boomed.

She swallowed hard. "Mne ochen' zhal, I'm sorry.." she started whispering, when his metallic hand struck her in the face, hard. She fell back, tears shooting into her eyes. For the first time, she looked at him.

His bionic arm reflected the daylight, that shone in through the windows. He was wearing a dark uniform, covering him in all black. His long hair hung into his face, partly covering his intense eyes. They were piercing her, holding her in place. She couldn't move or speak, only gaze back.

"How pathetic." He kicked her in the side.

She tried to roll away, only for him to kick her harder. In one motion he had rolled her on her back, then knelt down on her, his knee pressing into her chest, taking her breath away.

"How old are you, little girl?" His voice void of emotion.

She tried her hardest to stop crying. "Sixteen, komandir." She said with huge effort.

"Do you want to live or die today?" He asked, her life meaning nothing to him.

His weight was suffocating her, she felt her ribcage bending to the point of breaking. "I want to live, komandir!" she screamed.

He studied her face. After an eternity he lifted his knee and stood up.

"Then get up. We will see if you do."

He had made her fight him again and again that day. She would barely land a punch or kick, before she went flying painfully onto the floor. With her face grimacing in pain, but still standing, he had finally let off. He walked out without another word. He had allowed her to live.

000

She crashed onto the training mat, her body broken and covered in bruises, scrapes and cuts.

The training had been going on for weeks, full of relentless bone breaking fights with much stronger opponents and it had wrung the last bit of strength from her.

She gasped for air, all she wanted was to go to sleep right there and then, just sleep and heal. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her body was on the point of breaking. She had heard of constant agony, so severe, that it could drive the mind crazy, to a point from where it couldn't recover. She had been walking this line between learning her truest limits, or going all out insane under the pain and pressure.

The pain never stopped and neither did the Winter Soldier. He was watching her silently, observing her shivering mass lying on the floor.

She tasted blood in her mouth, her face buried in the old, rotten mat. It smelled of blood, sweat and decay.

If only she could keep lying here. Death seemed like a sweet release.

But she couldn't. Her will to live was too strong. She convulsed and her eyes flew open. Pressing her teeth together, she got up once more.

A smile crept on his face. "Good, malenkaya vdova. My little widow."

000

Natasha reeled back, stumbling into the coffee table and almost falling. The images were so clear and vivid. The decaying and musky smell of the training cells. The screams ringing in her head. Her own screams.

Him hitting her, coming after her.

She ran out of the front door and retched.


	4. Hard Lessons

I wanted to thank you all so much for your support, it means a lot!

* * *

She had been walking for two hours. The fresh air had cleared her mind, and just hiking through the sunny wood had felt strangely soothing. The wind ruffled her hair into unruly waves and she put it up into a high bun. Leaves crumbled under her footsteps, and sometimes she hit patches of thick moss, her feet sinking into the soft, green blanket and leaving deep tracks behind. Her hands touched the rough, gritty bark of trees she passed, crumbling off, if she grabbed too hard. Scared critters would scurry away when they heard her approaching. But it was all quiet, except for the breeze and birds chirping high up in the tree crowns. She was surprised to come to this realization: she _liked_ it out here.

Natasha took a deep breath. The hike had calmed her, or at least distracted her. The fresh stitches on her thigh were pinching her uncomfortably, but she ignored it. She had found a beautiful, small lake and walked along its edge, the water sparkling in the sun, and lazy waves rolling onto the muddy bank.

Her thoughts returned to her meltdown in the cabin, for the first time. The stuffy air closing in on her, blocking her airways, tightening her chest. An overwhelming claustrophobic feeling was clouding her mind and she had to get out, at once. She had stumbled out of the door and fallen on her knees into the dirt. She retched for a good five minutes, her stomach clenching painfully, nothing was coming out. She had coughed and spat and slowly gotten back up on shaky legs.

"Damn him."

That reaction was, what she had been trying to avoid. The words rang in her head. Red Room. Winter Soldier. She had buried those memories in a deep corner of her head, a place she never dared to visit. She had always known that they were there, slumbering, but didn't want to conjure them up, for this exact damn reason. This had only been a little glimpse into that dark corner, and her involuntary, strong reaction to seeing it, scared her more than she wanted to admit.

Natasha wiped her forehead, the warm sun was making her sweat. She didn't want to remember. All it brought was misery.

Her feet sank into the muddy shore with every step, the soft ground tugging on her boots, making it hard to walk. She turned her head to look at the lake.

_This might be nice for a swim_. She promised herself to do just that, if the temperatures stayed warm the next days. It's not like anyone would bother her out here. In fact, she hadn't seen a single person or sign of life, since she started walking. There were no boats on the lake, no tents or backpackers in the woods. _What a shame, this place could easily be a popular backpacking and hiking spot_. Total solitude. She was ok that, for now.

On her way back to the cabin, she started to collect as much firewood, as she could carry. She had carefully made a mental note of the path she had taken to the lake, to not get lost in the wilderness. The wood piled up in her arms, despite there already being a few logs at the cabin, along with a splitting axe. But seeing as how everything was running on wood in there, it wouldn't hurt.

It was getting dark when she got back. It felt cold now, the sun looming just above the horizon. Time to get a fire going for the night. She dropped her muddy boots by the front door and carried the dry branches in, letting them fall next to the fireplace, in a messy heap. Neat and tidy weren't exactly words she lived by. _Practical_, that more her philosophy in life.

"Let's see how this works." She mumbled, kneeling down in front of the fireplace and tugging a loose, red strand of hair behind her ear. Her sutures tightened under the movement, she would have to clean them later. She stacked up pieces of wood on the old, thick stone surface. _Just need a lighter_. She got up and walked to the kitchen nook, pulling open drawers. In one of them was a modern pack of firestarters. _Even better_. She ripped it open and after a minute had a crackling fire going.

There were two old fashioned oil-burning lamps and she turned them on as well. Looking around the quiet, illuminated cabin, it felt a bit better now, almost to the point of cozy.

Natasha let herself fall down on the futon. The smell of the cushion hit her, a cloud of old fabric and mold. She forced air out of her nose to get the dust out. It was very firm and had worn down in different spots, where she could feel the wood lattice below. Whatever, it would do, to just rest for a few minutes.

Despite her back complaining about the hard surface, she leaned back and closed her eyes. The warm air from the fireplace felt good on her skin.

_My little widow_. That's what he always called her. She had been so incredibly scared in his presence, whenever he was training her. Natasha hated to think of her weak, younger self. She had been such a young, stupid, naive thing. To her, there was absolutely no point in dwelling and overanalyzing that part of her past. Everyone had their skeletons in their closets, she just prefered to move on from them.

_But you can't outrun things forever_.

Her eyes flew open. She looked at the vaulted ceiling with its heavy beams. She wasn't running away from anything. Her past was just that, her past. With him in it or not. They would capture, or kill - she hoped for kill - him and that was that. She wouldn't have to hear his name ever again.

The flames were hungrily devouring the fresh wood she had collected, causing it to spark and crackle every now and then. She sat back up straight again. It was too early to go to sleep, the clock was just approaching eight. But there wasn't a whole lot else to do. She let her eyes wander around in her little space. The cabin was spartan, trying to be true to the simple lifestyle from a hundred years ago.

She rolled her eyes. Had this been some sort of joke - or punishment - on Fury's part to stick her here?

It was no secret that she had grown up dirt poor in the soviet union, and lived in much, much worse conditions. But she preferred her modern life to that of a tourist that's getting a kick out of living their ancestor's life for a week.

"I'm sure tourists from the city would just love it here, such an adventure," she said sarcastically out loud, just to hear her own voice.

The room didn't hold a lot of furniture. There was the worn futon she was sitting on, the coffee table, a tiny bed in the corner, next to a big, clunky dresser. A heavy desk in the other corner and the small kitchen nook with a wood burning stove.

She had gone through the kitchen pantry on her very first walkthrough earlier today, to take inventory. Relief flooded her, when she saw that it had already been stocked with non-perishable food items, that would last her for some time. Now she wouldn't have to drive to the nearest gas station back and forth to stock up.

Her eyes hung on the door across from her. The small bathroom behind it was the only other "room" within the cabin.

But, what made her the most excited of all, was her discovery of the generator under the awning outside. It would be able to heat water if needed, and she had an outlet to keep her laptop charged.

"At least he gave me that much", she muttered.

000

With the sun gone, it quickly became pitch black outside, and she got up to draw the curtains shut. The windows looked like dark holes, leading into nothingness. It gave her a strange feeling. She shook her head.

"How about, don't act like a child."

There was nothing out there, nobody knew where she was. And even then, the Glocks she had put into the nightstand gave her all the security she needed. She was a masterful shooter, faster and more accurate than most men. Nothing out here would scare her.

She walked to the desk, it had a stack of old books lined up, where desk met wall. She ran her index finger along the their spines. Most of them sounded like boring, schmalzy adventure novels. She cocked her head when one title caught her attention and produced a short laugh. _Crime and Punishment_ by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. _How fitting._

She grabbed the book and sat back down, flipping through the pages, but not paying much attention. Her eyes kept drifting over to the laptop in front of her, an idea forming in her head.

_I could just do a quick google search…_

"No." She told herself. "Do not even go there."

But she couldn't shake the thought now. A little peak would cause no harm. It was like looking up someone entirely different anyway.

"Don't be an idiot, Natasha. You fucking know what happened earlier"

Her explosive reaction when recalling the Red Room had concerned her greatly. She was trying her best to leave that part alone for now.

What she had in mind though, was a whole different subject. One, that had nothing to do with her past. She was just incredibly curious about the name that had been thrown around, ever since Steve had recognized him on the street.

Bucky Barnes.

"I'm going to regret this." _But I will also regret it, if I don't._

She got up, with a sigh of defeat, and pulled the laptop towards her. She cracked her knuckles and opened the top, it flickered to life. One hand on the touchpad, she moved the curser over to the browser search window.

She typed: **James Buchanan Barnes**

She knew he was a historic figure, but had never paid much attention to his story. Natasha herself was a freaking relict of history, even when she didn't like to be reminded of that. It was only when Steve had recognized him, as his long missing friend, three weeks ago, that she had listened up. It had come to her as a shock, to learn that these two men were one and the same.

How could they possibly be?

His wikipedia page popped up, along with an old grainy photo of him. She studied it closely. He was all flirty eyes and a cocky smile.

"Oh, weren't you a lady's man, Sergeant Bucky Barnes." She couldn't suppress a laugh. "I'm sure the girls were lining up to date you." But, there was also something else about him. His eyes, she recognized them in other, darker ways. She quickly looked away from the photo and started reading.

She read his page from top to bottom and it pretty much confirmed the hunch she already had about him. He was an out-going, good looking, young soldier. Loyal to the end to his best friend.

He was the opposite of what she and Steve had faced.

In her head, Bucky and the Winter Soldier were two very different people. Bucky was nothing like the thing that was hunting her currently. Unfortunately, the Bucky that Steve had known, was dead. There was absolutely no way that any trace of him was still alive in there, not after she had looked into those dead, soulless eyes.

_But still, the Soldier had saved Steve's life..._

Her memories kept creeping back. No no no no... She smashed the laptop shut. This had been a mistake.

000

Natasha and the Winter Soldier had first met during her early years of training in the Black Widow program. Despite the brainwashing later by the KGB, to erase those parts from her memory, she had recognized him instantly, when he came crashing down on them on the freeway.

He was her former guide and mentor. _Her_ Winter Soldier.

The thought made her nauseous again. She despised him with every fiber of her being, and would kill him, if given the chance. So many parts were missing from her memory, but under layers of emotions, one stood out the strongest: Hate. It was burned in her brain and was still burning behind her eyes.

000

Months had passed since their first encounter in the old training facility. Months of hard, relentless training. It was just herself and him in one of the cells of the Red Room. The floor felt cold and dirty under her feet, the walls were covered in cracks and dried blood. On the ceiling hung a fluorescent light, covered in cobwebs, flickering cold light down on them.

She stumbled backward, pain exploding in her face, where he had just struck her. She put a hand on her burning cheek, tears shooting involuntarily in her face, which she quickly blinked away.

"Do you enjoy getting hit?" He looked at her, his eyes indifferent but the tone of his voice taunting.

She curled her hands to fist and held them up in front of her body.

"No.. komandir." She answered between clenched teeth.

"Then, explain why your defense is so pathetic."

He was bare chested, slowly circling her. He had barely broken a sweat, despite being a few hours into their training session. His dark hair kept falling in his face, but didn't hinder him to land precise punches. She looked at the scar tissue on his shoulder. She had gotten used to the look of his metallic arm and how it was an organic part of him. Had felt it many times painfully on her body.

Natasha was trying to ignore his taunts, which never seemed to stop. She glared at him.

"Answer when I ask you something." He swung his right leg at her. She tried to block it with her arms, but it was too forceful, and she wasn't quick enough, sending her across the room.

She regained her balance and immediately went back into her defensive stance.

"You are much stronger than me." She replied, breathing hard. Anger starting to spread within her.

"That is an excuse for the weak and worthless" He said calmly.

"But it isn't fair." She was almost yelling now.

"Do you think life is fair? I had mistaken you for smarter than that." Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Attack me again, but mean it this time."

She charged him in a fit of anger, putting all her built up rage into it. The months of torment, the years of starvation, pain and uncertainty. She was angry at him, angry that she was ever introduced to him.

Her fists were flying towards his face, feigning a punch, then using her leg to knee him hard into his belly. He easily shook her off and swung her around, onto the floor.

She skidded to a stop, lying still for a second.

"Up!" he yelled, making her flinch. She obeyed, her eyes blazing with rage.

"You will never win if you act like a rabid dog." Mocking her again.

He took a few steps towards her, she planted her feet firmly into the ground, chewing her lip, fuming. He charged her, aiming a punch at her stomach, which she quickly evaded, and instead she punched him into his kidneys, which he barely seemed to register.

"I am not.." she wheezed, thrashing kicks and punches at him.

".. a dog." He grabbed her by the arms and held her in front of him.

He cocked his head at her.

"You get angry quickly. What a pity" She tried to wiggle away from him, but he held her steady, not budging. His cold eyes studying her.

"Your emotions will lead to your death, eventually." he stated, as if reciting a fact.

He let her arms go and she stumbled back. She glared at him, angry and confused, then closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, then another, slowly exhaling, pushing everything out of her mind. The painful bruises, the cold room, her gnawing hunger. Him.

When she opened them again, she felt calmer. He looked at her expectantly.

She charged again, her leg swinging into his side, which he caught. She used the momentum to bring up her other leg, aiming for his face. It connected and sent him backwards, releasing her foot. She did a backflip and landed crouched on all four. She sweeped her right leg under him, taking him off his feet. In a split second she was on him, her fist flying towards his face.

His bionic hand grabbed her wrist like a vice, and twisted it. She screamed out in pain, unable to do anything else.

He got back up to his feet, still holding her in a kneeling position in front of her.

"That was better." He sounded.. satisfied.

Her arm was suddenly free. She got back up again, pressing her teeth together.

"Are you angry at me?" He asked her.

She shook her head and took a deep breath. She was in control again, burying her true emotions somewhere deep in her.

"Good." he paused. "Act like a little child again, and I will kill you."

He walked out of the cell, leaving her alone with her pain and bruises.

000

Many months had passed. Natasha was breathing hard, but standing her ground, with her fists raised and dressed in a tight training suit, that allowed her full range of movement.

The days and weeks had begun to blur together, it all felt the same. Fighting, learning, fighting, learning, an endless cycle.

Not today though. She had to prove to him, that she was worth to continue to train.

"Attack me. If you hold back, you won't be leaving this room alive." He was looking at her, no emotion on his face.

Natasha mentally readied herself. This was it, do or die.

She dashed forward, and feigned on the left, then used her momentum to slide between his legs, kicking him hard into his right knee.

She had become very, very fast in the year long training with the Winter Soldier. She was able to elude his hands, that were grabbing after her. He faltered slightly from her kick, but stomped down where she had just lain on the floor, a split second ago, only for her to roll away.

He was faster though, and kicked her hard in the side, sending her flying into a wall. She landed on all four and was up again, pushing away from it. She flew at him, grabbing him by the neck and swinging her petite frame on his back.

She pulled out a hidden string from her wristband and wrapped it hard around his neck, strangling him. But he had gotten his bionic hand between the band and his throat, preventing any real damage. Instead, he ran backwards and rammed his back, with her on it, into a wall. Natasha screamed in agony. He pulled her off and swung her onto the mat, climbing on top of her, holding her down with all his weight.

She tried to wriggle out of it, but there was no room. Leaning forward, just inches from her face, he pulled a knife from his belt and held it on her throat.

"What do you do now, nemnogo vdova?" He was breathing hard and looked at her with a mild expression of pity. She saw that he was enjoying this moment, as if he had expected her failure.

"I will take you down with me," she rasped. He cocked his head, his eyes looking confused for a second.

"Look again, komandir."

Tucked under his huge thighs she was holding a knife against the soft flesh of his lower abdomen, the sharp blade grazing his skin, ready to open his belly from side to side.

His eyes met hers again and a smile started to spread on his face. He slowly withdrew the knife from her throat and stood up, towering over her.

"Very good."

He held out his hand to her. She took it and he lifted her up.

"Very good." He repeated, looking at her almost affectionate now.

She was beaming with pride, for the first time.

000

Natasha started awake in a cold sweat. The fire had gone out, and so had the oil lamps. She had no idea where she was. She tried to breath but her lungs wouldn't fill with air. She felt a panic attack rising up her throat. She touched around on the futon, feeling the firm cushion, and everything fell into place again. _Nick Fury. The cabin._

"I'm fucking losing it." she said to the empty cabin, breathing hard.

She knew she should have kept those memories locked far, far away. But the floodgates had been opened, and it was crippling her now.

Her hand ran through her sweaty, wet hair. She could somewhat make out the outlines in her room, but still had to feel her way, around the furniture. She stumbled over to the bed and immediately sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	5. A New Memory

I love writing Bucky/Natasha action. There's more to come towards the bottom of this chapter, Enjoy!

* * *

She woke up in the early morning hours and couldn't go back to sleep. At least she hadn't had another nightmare.

Now that she was seeing daylight, the terrible flashbacks from last night seemed silly to her.

"Get a grip on yourself." She got up to get ready for the day.

The cabin felt cold and she had to drag in more wood and got a small fire going. Meanwhile she got the oven stoked as well. She boiled water and made herself a cup of instant coffee and a bowl of grits. It tasted like heaven to her empty, rumbling stomach.

After bringing the dishes to the sink, she looked around in the cabin. It still had her duffel bag on the floor, with her things strewn around.

_Time to tidy this place up._ She spent the next hours cleaning the interior from top to bottom. Everything had been covered in layers of dust. She stowed away her clothes and toiletry things. Then dusted off most of the surfaces, a simple enough task but it made her feel so much better about the place. When she got to the desk, she crouched down to get the corners under it, that's when she saw it.

"Hello there." A shot gun was carefully taped and hidden under the heavy desk's top. She examined it. It seemed relatively new and was loaded with two rounds.

_With courtesy from Mr. Nick Fury, I assume?_

Good to know she had some extra protection. Of course she had the Glocks, but this thing packed some extra punch.

It was midday when she felt satisfied with her cleaning effort. She also felt sweaty and dirty from working for hours. The temperatures had climbed steadily and it was now warm in- and outside, the sun shining through the small windows. She went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, then started her hike to the lake.

000

The cold water felt excellent on her skin, although it had taken her a bit of self convincing to actually go in it. It was ice cold at first, but she swam out into the deep parts. The wound on her thigh was tightly wrapped in a bandage with a watertight patch over it. She would have to change it later, but that's why she had brought a medi-kit.

She was an excellent swimmer, fast if she needed to be or could do it for hours as part of her endurance. After an hour she felt fatigue and hunger settle in and swam back ashore. She rubbed herself dry with the towel, then put her clothes back on.

Back in the cabin, she checked her laptop really quick. No message, no mail, nothing yet. _It's too early_, she thought. _You might be here for a while, _she had to remind herself.

Her stomach gurgled to life. She suddenly noticed how starving she was, but had to bring the water back to a boil, before she could cook anything. She looked at the fully stocked pantry, while the water was slowly warming up. Her stomach growled again.

She grabbed two cans at once. _Condensed beef and veggie soup_. That sounded good. She prepared her meal as fast as the little stove would let her.

When she finally dug into her bowl, it also tasted better than she would have ever expected. _Being in this simple environment can probably skewer your perspective on things._

She still wasn't sure if this cabin had been the best idea, but it wasn't the worst thing either. She just felt so goddamn useless here. At least in the city she'd be able to help capture _him_.

She was wondering what Steve was doing, maybe they had a trace by now?

Steve Rogers. She wasn't exactly sure about her feelings for him. She liked him, yes. He was so charming and naive about things, it was just too sickenly sweet for her sometimes. Unlike her, he was still mostly stuck in the past, all his manners and honors that of a gentleman from the 1940'ies.

She had tried to break him out of his shell a bit more, he desperately needed a date to come up to speed with the modern world he was in now. But that was all going to fast for him.

She rolled her eyes.

He was a good guy, and she had even enjoyed their little kiss on the escalator. He always got so shy when it came to that. She laughed out loud, just remembering talking to him about it in the car.

She got up to wash her dishes. Her skin smelled like lake water, now that she was moving around.

_Maybe it's time for a treat_, she thought. She went into the bathroom and got the water boiler running with help of the generator. A hot shower would feel like heaven now. Her body was sore from all the scrubbing and swimming.

After 30 minutes, she checked the boiler again. That should be good enough. She undressed in the tiny bathroom and stepped into the old fashioned claw foot tub, pulling the shower curtain shut. Hot water started raining down on her and she just stood still.

It felt so good, she just wanted to enjoy it for a few minutes. She spaced out for a while, her mind going blank. Finally, she bent down and used a little piece of soap to wash her hair and body. Her legs had turned weak under the warm water, and she felt drowsy. Fatigue from the day was hitting her all at once.

There was still enough water left, so she just sat down into the tub, and let the water hit her head and back.

* * *

He was running his fingers lightly over her waist, front and back.

"I can feel it right here." He said and lifted her shirt slightly, pulling the knife she had hidden, out of her pant's waistband.

"You need to hide it better. Every _tupitsa_ would be able to figure it out." He pressed the knife back into her hand. "This mission is important, you can't mess it up over something so stupid."

He stepped back and looked at her. She had matured a lot in over a year. She looked at him alert and hungry to learn. Her body was becoming a lethal weapon, she had already demonstrated that. But that wasn't enough. He was going to turn her into the greatest spy known to the russian empire, worthy to be on his side.

They had traveled for days, a long way out west, and finally arrived in Saint Petersburg. The city of their next target. The opulence of the city had somewhat come as a culture shock to Natasha. She had never known or seen such lavish luxuries. They were staying in a tiny rented room, spending day and night together.

Natasha was a fast learner. Guns and hand to hand combat were among her favorite things, and she excelled in both. Now he was demonstrating to her how to use knives for a fast kill. Knives were one of his specialty.

"Hold it like this to be in the offense, it produces deep wounds." He was showing her in slow motion what he meant, tracing a path from her belly up to her ribcage. "For a single, deep cut, shift your fingers around, like this." He adjusted her fingers holding her own knife. He was being patient with her, touching her firmly, but not causing her pain.

She looked at his calm, blue eyes. She had seen a major change in him, in the way he was treating her. He had despised her in the beginning, when she was a stumbling, weak girl. But she had absorbed every second of his training with her and had undergone major changes. And with that, she had slowly earned his respect. She, still, had a good portion of fear for him. When he lost his temper at something, she had had to run for her life in the past. He could be a very violent and short-fused man.

And she respected him highly.

Nobody else had been able to train with him for that long. If he sensed that a student was not worth his time, he killed them.

"Thank you, komandir." She said suddenly.

He looked up at her, confused. She looked back at him.

"For.. for my training."

He said nothing. It was making her extremely nervous and she averted her eyes.

"It is up to you, how you use what I'm teaching you. Many before you have failed that." He replied calmly.

"I will not fail you."

He touched her face lightly, and brushing her auburn hair behind her ear. "I know, my little vdova."

She burned under his touch, her emotions going haywire, but she didn't allow herself to show any of them.

He returned to the knives.

"If you successfully want to hide it on your body, keep it right here," he touched her backside. "Or here." He drew his arm to her front, pressing the knife flatly into the lap. "Or here." He held it lightly between her breasts." She nodded.

"You will go in alone tonight. Our target has two constant body guards with him. Use whatever means necessary to get rid of them. Then take him out."

Natasha understood.

000

She slipped into the grand hotel that was overlooking the river. She was wearing an expensive dress under her mink coat, her hair and makeup done flawlessly. Nobody batted an eye at her, she was just the young daughter of a wealthy Russian, that was staying in the city.

Not in a hurry, she walked up the impressive staircase inside the lobby, mingling with other rich guests, coming in and out of a giant ballroom. She took a couple more sets of stairs, now encountering less people.

On the fifth floor she walked down the hall, past giant oil paintings and golden stucco. She turned right, and then left and saw the first guard from afar, blocking a door. Her face turned into a mask of confusion and fear when she steered towards him, somewhat stumbling over her dress. "Sir, please, I'm lost! I can't find my father."

His eyes flew open at her, furrowing his brows in anger, but unsure what to do. "Look downstairs Devoushka, there is nobody up here." She stumbled a last time and fell forward. He reflexively tried to catch her, when she silently slid the knife into his neck.

She slipped into the door and took out the second guard with surprising ease. Her target had awoken and was sitting on the bed, begging for his life, promising her money and all the riches she could dream of. He didn't suffer long.

000

She returned back to their room. Her hands still covered in drying blood, hiding them in the pockets of her coat.

The Winter Soldier was sitting in darkness, waiting for her, when she entered.

She took off her shoes and stayed in the corner of the doorway, shrouded in shadows. She couldn't see him and he wasn't moving. She stood still, waiting.

"Is it done?" a voice asked in front of her.

She nodded. "Yes."

He rushed at her, shoving her. The back of her head hit the wall behind her, she didn't fight back.

He took her arms and held them tightly pressed above her, breathing into her hair. She smelled his musky, sweaty odor, it made her knees weak. He was so close and so overpowering, she could feel his weight on her.

He leaned in and whispered into her ear. "Excellent job, Natasha" then his mouth came around and pressed onto her lips. She opened her lips to him and arched her body forward.

* * *

Natasha woke with a scream on her lips. She was sitting in the bath tub. Water was still raining down on her, but it was only half warm now. She was clutching the edges of the tub with white knuckles, her body convulsing.

_This can't be happening. It just can't..._

She forced herself to get up on shaky legs. She managed to turn off the water and stepped out of the shower, dripping wet. She felt sick again, but tried not to throw up.

This had been a memory that she had previously no access to.

She took a towel and dried herself off with trembling hands.

She had.. had.. They have had... an intimate relationship. She kneeled in front of the toilet and purged the soup she had eaten for dinner.


	6. Hello, Natasha

"I need to get this shit under control." She coughed and spat into the sink. Splashing her face with cold water made her feel a little better.

Maybe this was the pivotal point that she had been avoiding the whole time. The monster had been her lover at one point in time. The horror of this realization sent waves of hot and cold tremors through her stomach. She cringed at the thought, grabbing the top of the vanity.

Maybe it was better, now that she knew, trying to see the good in it. She had been a very different person back then, easy to manipulate. She looked into the mirror, her green eyes flashing. He had used her in more ways than one. Oh, she would love to make him pay for that.

Slipping into her panties and bra, she couldn't help but stop when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Two big scars immediately stood out to her. The one on her belly was several years old.

She lightly traced the newer one on her shoulder. It was only three weeks old, but healing well. The wound had closed up, but it was still an angry red color, sticking out sorely on her pale skin.

The bullet, that had torn through her left shoulder, had luckily missed most major arteries and bones. After patching her up, the SHIELD doc had given her a good prognosis. The tissue would have no lasting damage and she would regain full mobility back in that arm, once it was completely healed.

"Bastard," she murmured. He will pay for that, too.

She put on her grey tank top. A strand of her damp hair fell into hair face. It was drying into soft, natural curls. The mirror in front of her was still slightly foggy from her long shower. Her eyes drifted off, following the wood pattern on the paneled wall. The bathroom was small and simple, only consisting of the old fashioned tub, a tiny vanity plus sink and the toilet. Everything was looking old and outdated, much like the rest of the cabin. Not that she cared.

_My little widow_. She no longer was the Black Widow. That alias was done, gone. Another chapter closed in her life. She was ok with being Natasha Romanova. That is, until she could start a few new identities. That would give her something to work on here, now suddenly looking forward to this.

She suddenly shivered and felt goosebumps rising on her skin, interrupting her thoughts. _Have I been standing here for this long?_

A small draft must have made it under the closed bathroom door. And wearing only underwear and a top, it was making her hair stand up. Time to get dressed, she sighed. Stepping over her dirty clothes on the floor, she twisted the door knob and stepped out.

A hand roughly grabbed her by the arm and forcefully threw her into the opposite cabin wall. She gasped in surprise.

"What the…"

Her head hit the wood paneling with a thud, and for a moment her world went dark. Pain exploding behind her eyes.

" ..FUCK."

_Someone had followed her here, without her noticing. Not even when they entered the goddamn cabin._

The thoughts came racing through her mind.

_You felt the draft under the door, but didn't put two and two together. _

She knew the intruder had gotten her at a very vulnerable moment, which, sure as shit, wasn't a coincidence. She wasn't anywhere near her weapons. Still, her hand reflexively reached down to where her belt should have been, only to find bare skin.

_Going to pay this mistake with my life._ She had always known that mistakes during missions meant certain death, and had seen it happen to many other agents.

But she wasn't going to give up that easily. She shot up from the floor, her vision blurry with tears, calculating her situation. There was nothing to hide behind in the main room. So she did the only thing that would give her a chance at survival. She charged her intruder, which was only a big, dark mass in front of her. Her shoulder rammed into him, throwing him back into the wall, she used her knee to land a hit, and with her hand tried to wrangle free the weapon he was holding. He had caught himself and grabbed her arm again, sending her onto the floor with a twisting motion. She tried to roll away, but a knee came crushing down heavy on her chest.

She struggled under his weight, trying to lift him off, breathing heavy. He didn't move or make a sound. _Why am I not dead yet?_ Her heart was pounding and she tasted blood in her mouth. She felt a wetness on her right leg. _Blood_. Her stitches must have opened up. She tried pressing her hand on the wound.

"Stop moving."

She looked up now, for the first time, eyes still blurry. She blinked a few times to get them to focus. When her vision cleared, she found herself looking into the barrel of a M4A1 rifle.

Holding it, was a metallic arm. She saw long, brown hair falling in chunks over his face. His dark eyes watching her intently over the gun's focus.

"Hello, Natasha."

The realization took her breath away and sent icy shivers up her spine. He had somehow found here, out here, alone. How the hell...? She had not been prepared for that to happen. How could she have been so careless. _Stupid. STUPID._

He was holding still, his hands on the trigger, but not pulling it. Apparently he wasn't here to just simply kill her, unlike the last time they met. She focused on her breathing to steady her heart beat, which was still going at a hundred miles. He was watching her. Without saying a word she just stared back.

He looked like he had just stepped out of one of her nightmares. A ghost from the past, coming to haunt her.

Her mind was racing through her options. No weapon in reach. Screaming wouldn't work, there was no one within miles of her. That said, even if he shot her, the sound wouldn't raise any suspicions out here. Forget about any help incoming. Instead she stayed quiet, waiting.

"Where are your guns?" The Winter Soldier's voice was a low growl.

"In the nightstand." She tried to sound calm.

No point in denying that she had the Glocks with her, since she was widely known for always carrying them. But she decided not to mention the shotgun, or her belt on the bed.

He slowly got up, releasing her, but never lowering his weapon, keeping it pointed at her. It was the same weapon that he had shot her in the shoulder with, she noticed. High caliber, automatic. She decided to not make a move, for now, staying with her back on the floor. He side-stepped towards the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he opened the drawer, took one Glock out after the other and unhooked the ammo clips, which clattered to the floor. He emptied the loaded bullet out of its chamber as well and threw the now empty guns under the bed. He stepped back in front of her, the M4A1 still pointing at her head, his combat boots echoing on the wooden floor.

_How did I not hear him?_

"Get up."

She rose carefully, steadying herself on the nearest wall. A wave of nausea overcame her for a second. A concussion? Or was it just his presence? He had thrown her hard, nearly a miracle that it hadn't knocked her out cold. She was well aware of his above-human strength.

Now that she looked at him, he was wearing that same all-black uniform, sans mask. The leather-strapped, worn vest kept his bionic arm exposed. Strands of long brown hair partly covered his eyes, which were staring at her, in an emotion she couldn't place. For a moment her heart skipped a beat, as she thought of her memory in the shower.

As the adrenaline from their struggle started to wear off, she became acutely aware that she was wearing next to nothing, only a flimsy top, her legs bare. Any other girl might have blushed, trying to pull down her shirt. But shame was something, that she didn't allow herself to feel. Instead, her mood turned to anger. Angry at herself, that she had gotten herself in this situation. Angry at him staring her down, in his intimidating way. Angry at SHIELD and pretty much everyone.

"What the hell do you want from me?" She spat, doing a poor job at hiding her emotions.

If he cared at all that she was undressed, he didn't show it. His eyes held hers steadily, more concerned about her not being in reach of her guns, than her exposed skin.

Instead of answering her question, his eyebrows furrowed slightly behind the gun, still aimed at her. He was searching her face for something, as if looking for a clue. Or a memory.

"Do you know who I am? My name?" He asked her in a low voice.

"Yes." _How much brainwashing has he been through?_ She thought carefully about her answer, on how to touch this subject. She couldn't tell how much he knew about himself. She gambled.

"...Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes."

The Winter Soldier nodded, as if agreeing. He must be aware of his past life then.

"You will help me recover a file." His voice flat.

"What file?" What the hell was he talking about?

"Mine."

"Have you tried the internet? It's all there now, google it." She bit her lips. Being snarky is probably not going to help the situation, but it had just blurted out of her.

His expression didn't change. Apparently he took no offense from it.

"The information is incomplete. There are big gaps in the timeline. I need to know.. everything." He said flatly, but she heard a tint of emotion that she couldn't make out.

"You should probably start your search by looking at your Hydra _comrades_. Just so you know, I haven't been a Hydra agent in years..." she trailed off.

"I am aware, I read your file. I am also aware, that you excel at retrieving information. You will help me decode this file, you have no other choice in this matter." He said it in a tone that left no room for arguments.

_She pursed her lips. This couldn't be the sole reason he had seeked her out for. He seemed more than capable to do these things by himself._

"Fine." She hated every second of this, but didn't argue back. If he kept her alive, there would be enough time later to either escape or kill him.

Did he recognize her? She wasn't sure. He had looked thoroughly confused during his fights with her and Cap, as if something was tugging his mind. _Who the hell is Bucky?_ When she looked at him now he didn't look nearly as bewildered. He had been an experiment by the Russians, conditioned to follow any command without questioning. But the man facing her now radiated a sense of authority and power. _Just like in the Red Room._

"Put some clothes on, we are leaving." He ordered her, suddenly impatient, and took a couple steps back to give her room to maneuver.

As she pushed away from the wall, her right leg sent a sharp pain up her body and so did her back. Nothing seemed broken though, it would just bruise very badly. She hobbled across the room to the dresser, which had her clothes from yesterday piled on it. Carefully she pulled on her hoodie, trying to avoid any more pain. She couldn't suppress a slow hiss as she pulled the left arm through. Her back was towards him. She could almost feel his eyes burning holes into her, as he watched her every move.

"You are bleeding. A lot." He noted. Her right leg felt wet, and she was leaving small puddles of blood where she was standing. So, the sutures had definitely been ripped. She paused, then looked over her shoulder.

"My stitches must have opened." Natasha sighed, this wasn't good.

"Let me see." He stepped towards her. She immediately tensed up and sensed an opportunity. And then everything happened very fast.

She felt the fingers of his good hand brush on her leg. His left, bionic arm, was still holding the rifle but he had it now pointing downward, standing behind her. Natasha was hovering over her clothes pile when, with one motion, she pulled out an electro-static disc from the belt hidden under her sweater; whirled around and smashed it against his arm, activating it.

Or tried to.

000

He was fast. Incredible fast. He blocked her arm and the resulting force flung the disc from her hand, discharging it uselessly in the air. She heard his rifle hit the floor; he had dropped it to use both hands for close combat. She felt her right arm go useless as he took it into a vice like grip. Her left hand shot out, landing a crushing blow on his nose. It would have knocked out any normal human. But all he did was reel back slightly, while she kicked out into his groin. He grunted and his right arm shot to his belt to pull out a knife, which was now speeding towards her face in a blurry motion. She ducked under it and heard it hit the wooden wall, while she kicked at his knee, sending waves of pain up her own leg. She bit her teeth together.

He pulled her from her squatting position and flung her on the bed, throwing himself on her, pressing her into the thin mattress. The knife coming towards her face again. She grabbed his wrist with both arms, before he could made contact. It came to a trembling stop, both of them breathing heavy.

She felt her grip slipping as he slowly pushed on, trying to drive the knife into her head. She noticed in horror that his eyes had turned black. He had taken on a vacant expression, and all she saw was the pure, relentless drive to kill. Not thinking, only reacting.

_I cannot stop him. I am not nearly as strong._ She realized in a rising panic. _And this time there is nobody here to intervene._

Her hands around his wrist were trembling, she was straining hard to keep it pushed away. She could not hold this up much longer.

Trying to fight him was her second big mistake of the night.

_He is a programmed killing machine. She had seen him enter this trance-like state when fighting Steve._

But Steve had been able to snap him out of this. _Call him by his name._

"James." Her voice just a whisper. But maybe she could trigger something... with the right words or actions. She was hoping this would work. **Had** to work.

"James!" she yelled out, pleading now. "It's me.. Natasha!" His eyes were still two black, vacant holes, but she noticed a faint glimmer. She felt him easing up just slightly on his knife. Still, it kept inching closer towards her, as both their hands trembled under the force. She didn't have much time left.

_Change of plans, just talking wasn't cutting it._

With her last remaining strength she pushed his knife-hand out to the side, away from her, and leaned her body forward. Her lips crashed onto his. He immediately tensed up - this was probably the last thing he had expected. _Good_. It took him a second to react, which felt like an eternity to her. She parted her lips slightly. His beard stubble were scratching her face and, all at once, she smelled his overwhelming musky odor, which she inhaled with deep breaths.

_God, please, let this work._


	7. Patching Up

**Thanks for all your feedback, it keeps me motivated :D And thanks for fixing my bad google russian translations, StarlitWave10, I'll go back and fix it!**

* * *

He was breathing hard against her and she could sense the gears in his head turning; his utter confusion at this turn of events. Felt him relax slightly.

Mostly to her own surprise, he started to kiss her back. The hand, that was holding the knife, had slipped behind her head, flatly pressing her further into him.

It all lasted only a few seconds. Natasha was going through a roller coaster of emotions, coming from one adrenaline high to another. His smell and his mouth on her - it was too much. Repulsion crept up her throat and she wanted to throw up. Y_ou are kissing this.. monster..._ Her senses were kicking back in.

"Get the _fuck_ of me!" She tried to knee him.

The Winter Soldier must have had a similar thought. He pulled his upper body away from her and immediately set the knife back on her throat, at arms length. The tip was pointing into her soft flesh, ready to be driven up into her head. She gave a small gasp and swallowed.

His murderous empty gaze was gone, thank god. Instead he was looking at her in confusion. He blinked a few times, his eyes glinting at her.

_This was better than brainwashed zombie mode. _He licked his lips.

"Have any more tricks you want to try?" he asked coolly, raising his eyebrows.

She shook her head, a small trickle of blood going down her throat from where the knife was cutting her skin. She knew better than being a smart ass right now.

"Good." No trace of anger in his voice. She was still tasting him on her lips, disgusted with herself. She had no illusions that this short, intimate moment didn't change anything between them. He didn't seem to acknowledge it at all.

"That was a very stupid move, Natasha."

She said nothing.

"Did you think that could've worked?" He was mocking her. It felt familiar.

"Just leave me the hell alone" She was incredibly angry now. He ignored her back talking.

"You will do as I say from now on, understood?"

He was still sitting on her, his weight keeping her fixed on the bed. Something wet was touching her side. The mattress felt cold and soggy on her skin. _Her leg_. It was still losing blood, and a lot of it. The Winter Soldier noticed, too.

"You will need new stitches, or you won't make the drive out of here." he stated.

Natasha was fuming, but nodded. If he was going to leave this wood with her, it would take hours to reach the next biggest town, and even then, it's not like he would take her to a hospital. She didn't feel the bleeding was acutely threatening her life, but she didn't want to press her luck either.

"I have a kit in the bathroom." Her back was hurting under his weight, she just wanted him off already.

Before he released her, he leaned in once more. She noticed that even though his face looked expressionless, his eyes were in turmoil. There was a storm raging behind them. She found herself getting lost in it the longer she stared. He snapped her out of it.

"Do not do something like that again." He was warning her.

"I.. won't," she hissed between pressed teeth. He finally stood up, allowing her to take a deep breath.

"Go ahead." He made a motion towards the bathroom.

She scooted into a sitting position and got up on wobbly legs, slowly brushing past him, still limping as she tried not to put too much weight on her right leg. He followed right behind her. The knife he had been holding vanished back into the holster on his belt. Apparently she didn't look like an immediate threat anymore.

"Where is it?" He asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Under the sink." She bend down carefully and opened the vanity, rummaging through her towels and other belongings. She noticed that her hands were trembling. As soon as she had pulled the kit out, he snatched it away from her.

"Hey!"

"Sit down. On the tub." He commanded, while opening the kit and its compartments. Natasha gritted her teeth. She didn't want him to touch her any more. Biting her tongue, she stepped near the old fashioned claw foot tub and sat down on the ledge.

"I can do this myself.."

"Hold still." He sat down next to her on a footstool and started cleaning her leg with peroxide. He was so close again, invading her private space, she unconsciously leaned away. She felt repulsed by his hands on her. The peroxide stung so much that it was driving fresh tears into her eyes, which she furiously blinked away. _No way in hell am I going to cry in front of him._

Wearing only panties, she felt exposed. But, so far, he had shown complete disinterest in her body. She didn't get the feeling that he was somehow.. going to take advantage of her, although that thought had crossed her mind. _I'd rather fight tooth and nail and die in the process._

He unwrapped several sealed packages and calmly started pulling the remains of her old stitches out. He was breathing evenly, fully engrossed in his task. She would be lying, if she said it didn't hurt. The pain of her torn wound mixed with a growing headache, which had been building ever since she hit the wall. It was now pounding between her temples.

"Are there any Tylenol in there?"

He paused and he rustled through the kit, then wordlessly handed her a bottle. She shook out two pills and swallowed them dry - it took a few attempts to get them down.

He made the first stitch without warning. It hurt like hell, but she stayed still. He worked concentrated and fast as he was pulling the torn skin back together. To distract herself from the pain, she let her mind wander.

This day had started out normal; from cleaning the cabin, to swimming in the lake, cooking dinner. This all felt so long ago now. Her plan to live here in piece for a little bit had crumbled to dust, when he had suddenly appeared in her _supposed_ safe house. She glared at him, then cleared her throat.

"How did you find me?" Her voice quivered a bit and she hoped he wouldn't notice. She wasn't exactly expecting a response. His eyebrows furrowed, as if weighing the option of answering her. When she was about to accept that she wouldn't get an answer, he spoke up.

"I had a tracker on your car."

"_What?_" She was stupefied. "Since when?" She had been here for two days. How long had he been watching her?

"Hold still." He held a hand on her leg to stop her from shaking. A tracker seemed like the most logical explanation, since her trip here wasn't documented in any other way. But how did he have the foresight to install one? She bit her lips angrily.

"Why are you following me?"

"I told you. Your skills are of use to me." A flat statement again.

"It would have been easier to pick some other agent, still in the city"

"Not for this mission."

"If it's just about a file, you could have probably had it by now, instead you are here. Wrong place to look in my opinion."

"I have the file. It needs to be decrypted."

"Where is it?"

"In a safe location." She furrowed her brows and processed all that information. He was going to take her some place and she would have to hack a file. And then what? He would kill her most likely. Or was there another reason to pick her for this task? _Does he remember our past?_

The Winter Soldier kept working on her in silence. Just one more question, it was nagging her.

"How did you get a hold of the tracking gear? This stuff isn't exactly easily obtainable."

"HYDRA." was all he said.

"All the reports I read said that you no longer work for HYDRA."

"I didn't need their permission."

And with that she felt him make a final knot, finishing up the sutures. He cut off the extra thread and dropped the tools back into the med-kit. He rose up and stepped to the sink, turned on the faucet and washed his blood smeared hands. She got up as well, her legs feeling like jell-o. She stepped behind him to look into the mirror. The wound looked professionally sewn shut, she hated to admit it.

Not watching her reaction, he abruptly turned off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom, without another word.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a towel to clean off any remnants of dried blood from her skin. He called out to her from the main room.

"Get ready and grab some clothes. I am not wasting any more time here."

She took one last look in the mirror. Her eyes were tired and her hair messy, red bruises were already forming all over her body, thanks to him. _Asshole_. Then stepped out of the bathroom. He had walked over to the bed and picked up his rifle. Limping towards the dresser she felt that the Tylenol had finally started to numb the pain.

Natasha pulled open the first drawer.

"If you so much as _try_ anything I _will_ kill you." he said casually in her direction.

She gave an irritated nod and pulled out some socks, a new pair of jeans and got dressed deliberately slow. Meanwhile he picked up her backpack that was sitting on the floor and rummaged quickly through it. It contained her purse, ID, credit cards and some cash. He added her laptop from the table to it, closed it back up and threw it over his shoulder. Natasha turned towards the heavy desk in the corner. This was her last chance to get the shotgun. _Which probably is a really dumb idea_, a voice said in her head.

"Let me grab my money, it's in the desk."

"No." He shot her request down, impatiently. "Put your shoes on, now. Or you're going barefoot. You have 10 seconds."

_Bastard._

Fuming, but compliant, she strutted towards the cabin door and pulled on her dirty, worn hiking boots. As soon as she stood up straight, he pushed her out of the door, his bionic hand gripping her arm and pulling her close to his side. Her face bumped into his vest, as she stumbled out. His scent filled her nose again, nauseating, before the clear, cold night air hit her.

She started towards her truck, but Barnes immediately pulled her in a different direction. She was freaking tired of him pulling her so much.

"We are taking my car." he informed her and swung the M4A1 onto his back.

They started hiking through the dead-silent forest. _It must be past midnight now_, she guessed. She stumbled a few times over roots. The moon hung low over the trees and provided just enough light to not totally get lost. She felt a chill going through her body. Even though they were just barely into fall on the calendar, the air up north felt almost like onset winter. She glanced at the Winter Soldier, who didn't seem to mind the temperature at all.

_How much further?_ She sighed. If she had known about this hike she would've grabbed a flashlight. She grimaced, suddenly reminded about her Glocks, that she had been forced to leave behind. She was already sorely missing them and felt naked without them strapped on her legs.

They must have hiked for another good ten minutes before they reached his Jeep. He opened the driver door and pushed her through to the passenger side and got in behind her. The backpack landed on the back seat and she heard the rifle clatter next to his door.

They had a long drive in front of them.


	8. Begin

The night had seemed endless, and when they finally got on the road, she fell into an exhausted, restless sleep. She woke up three hours later, daylight beginning to illuminate the horizon. They were still driving. They hadn't spoken a word to each other.

She listened to the car engine, now no longer able to sleep. Her body was hurting in several places, but she bit her teeth together, trying to find a comfortable sitting position. Watching the long empty road ahead, she couldn't take the silence any longer. She felt her way around on the dashboard and switched the radio on. It crackled to life. After turning the dial in all directions, all she could find was a country station with a lot of static in it. The antenna must be broken.

_Nevermind then_, she sighed, and turned it back off.

"Where are we going?" Her voice cutting through the quiet. It sounded much raspier than normal, and her throat was hurting. He glanced in her direction.

"Washington." He said finally. She frowned, back to the city then. Somehow, it felt ominous to return.

"Is that where your file is?"

"Yes."

"You do realize, a lot of people are looking for you?"

"They can look all they want." He answered, disinterested.

She looked out of the window, trees and fields flying by, illuminated in blue early morning light. It was dark in the car, his face a silhouette against the window. She wondered about his intentions. How much does he really know about his past? He had saved Steve, so there had to be something. It would be very helpful to find out how much he knew .. but this could lead down a dangerous road.

"Alright. Tell me this." She began. "When you get your file, What do you hope to find in it?" Cutting straight to the point. He kept silent, staring straight forward.

She tried it from a different angle.

"Do you remember your life before the Russians captured you? When you were just Bucky Barnes?"

"Some of it."

"Did you know there's an exhibit about you at the.."

"..Smithsonian, I know. I saw it."

"It's almost funny, thinking about it this way. But Bucky was practically a War Hero, children learn about him in american history. " She prodded him.

He kept silent for a while. "I have killed people." He finally answered. "A lot of people. Men, women and children. I'm not a _hero_." No tone in his voice.

She swallowed. "You were conditioned by Hydra to do these things." She answered carefully, trying to make him understand.

"I have killed a few people just to find you." He shrugged. "Their lives didn't matter to me."

"You were _brainwashed_. They took a good man and reprogrammed his brain, for years. I believe, under all this, you are still Bucky Barnes." She wanted to see his reaction, being confronted with the truth.

"That person. Is not _me_." He insisted, harshly.

Ah, she knew it. Had known it since she looked deep into his empty eyes. The real Bucky was either still slumbering somewhere deep down, unbeknown to him, or gone forever.

"Then _who_ are you?" She pressed on.

He looked over to her, raising his eyebrows.

"Why don't you ask yourself that question. You seem very confused yourself." That stopped her dead in her tracks.

"_Excuse me_? What the hell do you think you know about me?" She was angry now.

He gave her a look. She swore that he was smiling now, knowingly.

"I remember you, Natasha." She shrunk back in her seat. _No, he couldn't._

"You.. do?"

"Things have been coming back to me. I remember hurting you."

Now it was her turn to be silent. She didn't want to talk about anything involving her.

"I shot you," he continued. "Right here." He put his right - good - hand on her hip, his fingertips brushing over her scar, making her flinch. She swatted it away.

"Stop fucking touching me." She hissed.

He put his hand back on the steering wheel. He looked almost... satisfied with her reaction. She was done talking to him, angrily turning away to look out of the window.

000

Half an hour later her stomach started to growl. It was bright morning now. She pressed down into her belly, to make it stop. He had heard it though.

"There is food and water on the back seat." He mentioned towards the back.

She didn't make an attempt to move, but eventually hunger began to override her pride. Leaning back, she grabbed a power bar and a bottle of water from the backseat floor and started to devour both. Her new sutures were pinching uncomfortable on her thigh, but it was manageable. She unwrapped the bar and started eating, feeling his eyes on her.

"How are your bruises?"

"Well, they are a lovely shade of blue, thank you very much." Her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You gave me plenty of them."

"A lot of it was on you. You should have listened." He didn't sound apologetic about his actions.

She shot him an angry glance. "You seemed to enjoy doing that."

"I only do what's necessary," he shrugged. "Did you enjoy kissing me?"

Her mouth dropped open. She felt her face turning red. Why would he even bring that up, to make her feel uncomfortable? It brought back the bad memories from the previous night, his intrusion and their fighting, she was fighting for her life. He had demonstrated his power over her several times and she hated how weak he had made her feel. It was burned in her mind, the dark, dead look of his eyes, his sole purpose to kill what is in front of him.

"I did… what was necessary." She hissed.

He laughed out loud. It startled her.

"It was a lovely kiss, no need to be ashamed." He enjoyed her shock and embarrassment. How could he be so lighthearted about this.

"You were about to kill me, remember?" She said between her teeth, looking darkly at him. "The person, that you wanted help from. That you came looking for, all the way from Washington."

"You shouldn't have fought back." Sounding serious now. "I can't always control myself."

Natasha sighed, didn't she know all about that.

000

They were getting into city limits. Talk had stopped for a while. She was chewing on her lip. The scar on her hip. He had remembered one of his previous missions. Natasha almost lost her life to him during their first post-russian encounter, when he shot right through her hip to kill someone else. Back then he had not recognized her at all, just a programmed shell. But now he knew suddenly, did that mean.. his brainwashing was wearing off?

He was going south, the part of the city which she didn't know very well. Instead of high rises and shopping centers, the area started to look more residential, and somewhat dilapidated. It was in the early morning hours, when he finally stopped in front of a boarded up ruin of a house.

He turned of the engine. She looked at the house, then back at him.

"This. Is where your file is?" She had expected anything but this.

"Yeah." He returned her look, and it dawned on her.

"Is this where you've been staying the past weeks?"

"Sometimes." He grabbed his rifle and exited the car.

She unbuckled and stepped out as well, looking up and down the street. It was deserted, and the few houses that were on it, all looked crumbling and empty. This could work, she thought, plenty of room to run or fight. But she didn't. She was too curious to find out what was inside.

He motioned her to follow him and they walked into the highly overgrown backyard. The backporch had partly collapsed, she carefully stepped around splintered boards, until they reached the backdoor. It wasn't locked and he swung it halfway open with a loud creak, before it got stuck and refused to move any further.

"After you." He held out his arm.

She squeezed past him, careful not to touch him, and entered the house. The windows were all boarded up and allowed only a little light in. She let her eyes adjust to the dim interior. The house was in bad shape, and just plain filthy. Dust and dirt piled in every corner, broken furniture was littered around and empty boxes were stacked on a wall.

He stepped in behind her.

"Nice place you got here, really cozy." She just could not stop her sarcasm sometimes. But he ignored her.

"So where -" His hand shot out, covering her mouth and he pulled her into him, holding her tight against his chest. What the-

"Shh," he whispered into her ear.

She panicked and wanted him off. What the _hell_ was he doing? She tried to buckle.

"Someone is here." He let go off her, produced the rifle from his back and took aim towards the hallway. He walked to the next room without making so much as a sound, all forgotten about her. Her heartbeat was going through the roof. _Damn, he could be silent, no wonder she hadn't heard him last night._

Her hands shot automatically to her hips. If Hydra was here somehow, that could be bad. There were no guns strapped to her thighs. _I wish I had my goddamn Glocks_.

She stayed behind, waiting by the doorframe, listening for him.

A scream. Then shots rang out, it was ear shattering in the graveyard silence of this neighborhood. _Shit_. She ran towards the noise, carefully peaking around the corner. He was towering over a single figure lying on the floor.

"Did you take anything?" He asked, what looked like, a teenager.

She immediately understood. It was just a homeless teen that had picked this house to stay in. _Wrong choice, buddy._

"Did. You. Take. **Anything**?" He kicked him hard into the side. The boy screamed in pain.

"No, sir. Please!" He was crying. The Winter Soldier took aim. Natasha knew what would come next and ran towards the kid, throwing herself on him, facing her captor.

"Move." He ordered her, annoyed.

"No, James. Just let him go, he's just a kid." She had called him James again. It had just come out. She wasn't sure what else to call him, but he seemed to respond to that name.

"I said. Move." He was looking at her with deadly intent now. The rifle aimed at her head.

"You dont have to kill him. I know the old Bucky is still in there, you are not a cold blooded killer." She was making this stuff up, not sure if it was any true, but she needed to buy some time.

"You have no idea." He was completely void of emotion again, like the night before. "His life. Your life. It means nothing to me."

She felt him slipping into his blank mindset. In a surge of panic, she struck her hand out, as if this could stop a bullet.

"Let him go, James. I will help you decrypt your file and I will help you remember. I swear." Was she really signing up for this? The boy was crying behind her. There was no backing out now. His eyes were dark, looking at her intently. He seemed to consider her offer for a moment, she saw the gears turning in him. Then he cocked his head.

And lowered his gun. He stepped back.

"Get out."

The boy shot up and stumbled out of the room, she heard him leave through the back door.

Well, she had saved his life. But signed hers away. He had taken her up on her promise, which she now wasn't sure if she could keep. Would or could she really help him remember? Digging through their memories was the last thing she wanted to do with him. Hopefully decrypting this damn file would be good enough. She thought it was highly interesting just how badly he wanted to know his past.

He walked out and she heard him rustling with something in a different room. She followed him. He had pulled out a modern looking laptop and was pushing it into her hands.

"Begin."


	9. Bargain

She stared at the laptop and then at him for a moment, accepted it without a word and looked around for a comfortable corner. There was a stack of blankets next to one of the walls, she walked over to them and sat down. _Was that his bed? _Seeing as there was no other good furniture in this house, it probably was. _How much does he sleep anyway?_

She opened it and it came to life. She immediately found the secured files among the other clutter, the whole infrastructure of it screamed Hydra to her.

"Where did you get this laptop?"

"It doesn't matter, just open the file."

She rolled her eyes, for the nth time, and put up her hair into a high ponytail with one of her wristbands. She began her usual routine, trying to find a way into it, hands flying over the keyboard. He was watching her with high interest. He almost looked a little impressed at how fast she was with this modern machine. Or maybe that was just in her head.

She noticed quickly that this file wasn't going to be an easy one. She would need some help with it.

"Can you get my laptop from the car?"

He nodded and disappeared.

She took the time to look around. There wasn't much here. Just this make shift bed. A few clothes that looked like they might fit him. Ammo, but no guns. The longer she sat on the blanket, the more she could smell his scent on it. It was making her uncomfortable.

He came back in, handing her the backpack.

"Thanks." She mumbled, getting her laptop out. She used the tiny, attached usb stick to transfer her own files over, and started running her programs. Only a few minutes in she - again - ran into a wall. Damn. This thing was highly secured, top level. She cracked her knuckles. This would only leave her one option. She used her last-resort string of hacks, they would attack the files over and over to figure out a way in, brute-force, but it would take long.

He was staring at her expectantly.

"This file is high level security. You seem to have quite the important past there. The hacks I'm using on it are very meticulous, its going to take a while." She explained so he would understand.

"How long?"

"It's hard to say when using brute-force." She was afraid to continue. "It could be up to three days for a file this secure."

His expression didn't change - _good_ - she had been worried that he'd get angry over things out of her control.

"Make yourself at home then."

000

She had first been excited to see a 3G signal on her laptop, but that turned sour immediately. It was too weak to even send an email, fluctuating too much. A message to SHIELD would have to wait. _I had better reception in the freaking woods._ She was simultaneously watching her programs do their work and for any new sign on an internet signal. Which never came in.

An hour in she pulled his laptop to her again to take a closer look. The progress bar on his laptop was crawling incredibly slow. Her hacks had only made a tiny dent so far. _Where did he find this machine anyway?_ It smelled of Hydra, maybe he had gotten it by coincidence or force, since they didn't seem on good speaking terms anymore. He had disappeared somewhere into the house, which she was ok with.

Since there was nothing else to do for her, she stayed put. She was hypnotized by the lines of code flying by, her mind blank, when he sat down right next to her, shoulder to shoulder.

She flinched.

"What-" why did he always come so close. She couldn't stand _anyone_ invading her personal space, let alone him. She tensed up, being so close to his massive figure brought her nerves on the edge. But she tried being patient instead, to see what he wanted.

"Show me how this works, what you are doing." It sounded more like an order, than a request. _Ah_, he wanted to learn. One side of her she didn't want to help him, but she had an idea that he was probably not going to stop bugging her. And they would be here for a while, maybe it wouldn't hurt to show him the basics. She pulled her own laptop on her lap.

"Well, what you see here is the os - the operating system - of the laptop. It's important to differentiate between Linux, Windows and OS X and so on when it comes to hacking something. A lot of these important ones-" She held up the laptop. "-run on Linux. If you are trying to hack a file locally, you load it into one of these programs, it will basically mimic a trojan virus.."

He looked at everything she was doing, but she saw that he had trouble understanding. She knew she wasn't the greatest teacher, her impatience usually got the best of her. His metallic arm was pressing in her right side, her knee was touching his leg, she moved it away slightly. Then he reached over to the touchpad and moved the curser around. She took her approach a step backward.

"You do know the basic interface, internet, etc? You said you know google."

"Somewhat. I had other people look up things for me." She frowned, whatever _that_ meant.

"Ok. I can't show you the internet, because we don't have access here. See that symbol up there? It would have to be green. But I can show you how files and programs work." He nodded, his dark hair hanging in his face.

By the end of her explanation, he was able to open local files, use them in programs, copy and save them. He seemed fascinated by the technology. She was more fascinated with herself. Last night she had strongly wished for his death, today she was still on the edge, but felt a lot.. calmer. Well, he also wasn't holding a knife to her throat.

He was fully engrossed in her laptop, while she watched.

"How do you like the modern world?" She asked him, curiously.

"It's .. strange." He sounded honest, almost human, for once, and she appreciated that.

"Yeah. You'll get used to it. It's actually not all that different, except for these." She pointed at her laptop.

"You seem to have adopted well."

"I did have a head start."

Her stomach rumbled, having only eaten the power bar earlier. It must be midday by now, she thought, looking at the screen. The laptop clock showed that it was just a bit after noon. She had her doubts, but asked him anyway. "Is there anything to eat here?"

"Yep." He abruptly got up and walked out of the room. She followed him. He had stopped in the kitchen area, or whatever was left of it. Some of the cabinets were ripped out, or broken in, old dishes scattered around, there was no fridge or furniture. But he had old grocery bags with cans sitting on the stove. She walked over to the bags, rummaging through them.

"I guess we can eat those cold."

"Why?" He reached over and turned on an eye on the stove. It buzzed to life. Her eyes went wide.

"Are you telling me, that this dump is hooked up to power?"

"Water too." He turned on the sink. She was speechless. He just shrugged.

"I dont know why, maybe just a fluke. This is the whole reason I chose this house."

"Well. That makes things easier, I suppose." She sounded indifferent, but was flooded with relief on the inside, she had dreaded staying here. She looked through the remnants of the kitchen, then pulled out an old pot, that she rinsed out in the sink. The water smelled a bit funny. _Just your normal disgusting tap water, remember, it's drinkable._

"Are you hungry, too?" She glanced at him, leaning on a wall. "_Do_ you get hungry?"

"Yeah."

She took two cans at once, all chicken noodle soup, and emptied them in the pot. Fifteen minutes later, both were quietly eating their warm meal, him standing, she was sitting on the counter.

A silence had fallen between them and Natasha almost felt awkward. He didn't seem to notice, he simply always appeared indifferent. But, this whole situation was just so bizarre. Here she was, with the guy who had almost murdered and then kidnapped her, eating soup. And she hadn't tried to fight again or do anything about it again. Under different circumstances she would handle this very differently.

_And what would those be?_

She reasoned with herself that he _was_ physically stronger than her. And he had the weapons. He seemed to always have his rifle, handgun and knife on him. Not to mention the arm. But maybe there was another reason. She found herself somewhat compelled by his story, it was drawing her in. Maybe, because they _have_ had a strong connection in the past. A few days ago she was avoiding any information about him, now it had turned into the opposite. She still couldn't thoroughly understand his intention, focussing so much on that file, instead of doing other things, free of Hydra's influence.

"This is pretty good." He was shoveling the soup as if he hadn't eaten in days. She raised an eyebrow.

"It's just canned soup." She guessed that he really might have not eaten in a while, or not very well. "But I'll take it as compliment." Only being half sarcastic. "I'm sure you remember canned soup from your former life, I mean, that stuff has been around forever."

He paused. "Yeah, I remember. But.. I mostly remember army food. It wasn't very good." The gears in his head turning, conjuring up his life as Sergeant Barnes.

"It still isn't." She had to grin, and even he looked up, there was something like a smile around his face.

"A lot of other things have changed since then." He spoke again. "This technology… it is a lot different. There are some fragments in my head, from previous missions, I remember them. They would hand me different equipment to work with every time, but never explained anything." He was staring at the floor, as if there was an invisible movie projected on it.

"Well." She wasn't sure what to tell him. "You were kind of in and out of it for over 60 years, I can only imagine how confusing that must be. But, at least you are not completely thrown into this new world, unlike -" _Steve_. She almost had said it out loud, but she bit her tongue. That would make things even more complicated, she decided not to mention him for now. He was still trying to piece things together in his head, it was obvious.

She was curious. "They never explained anything to you, when they sent you on a mission. Did you ever have any doubts? About what you were ordered to do?" She could guess the answer, having been in a similar situation, but asked anyway.

He looked up at her. "No. I followed my orders."

She looked at him neutrally, knowing his response, before he had said it. He would have done anything they told him to, all the pain and suffering he had caused others, murdering young and old, without questioning it, without any trace of guilt on his mind. She had done the same.

"Was I your mission, three weeks ago?"

He looked at her strangely. "Yes. And I failed it."

She licked her lips. "Am I still your mission?"

"No, I don't follow assignments anymore." He took the rest of the soup "You would be dead otherwise."

He devoured a second bowl.

For some reason, the Red Room came flashing into her mind and she couldn't shake the image. She saw him standing in front of her, training her with fear and discipline. And she saw _him_ standing in front of her in the kitchen, as a real apparition, watching her over his soup bowl. She shook her head slightly. No. It wasn't the Winter Soldier she had known many years man in front of her, he was different, a stranger.

She quietly put down her bowl. "Let me check the progress on your laptop." She brushed past him, feeling his eyes on her, feeling his presence. She almost expected him to reach out and grab her when she passed by him, but he didn't, he just watched her leave without another word.

000

She walked back to the blankets, sat down and folded one leg under her. She pulled the machine towards her and inspected the code. Still running at high speed, but only chipping away ever so slightly. She heard him work in the kitchen. Was he really washing the dishes? That just seemed strange to her, but she just ignored it, looking back over her code. Maybe, she could hand-feed some extra lines while it was running simultaneously. Maybe that could speed it up.

He had stopped his noise in the kitchen and was now leaning against the door frame.

"How are your sutures?" Looking her stretched out leg, his eyes seemed a bit darker.

She glanced up at him. "Fine."

"How is the file coming along?"

"Slowly." She wasn't exaggerating and turned his laptop to prove him, otherwise he just wasn't going to back down.

He watched the numbers on the screen, concentrated, then nodded. He got up and walked over to the clothes he had sitting in a pile on the floor, and partly on a chair. She heard the ripping sound of the straps on his vest coming loose. _What was he doing now?_ He opened the rest of the buckles and pulled his muscular arms out of it. The vest clattered onto the floor. She couldn't stop herself staring from the corner of her eyes. He was wearing just a tight insulated black shirt underneath, which he took off too. He looked even bigger without all his clothes, pure muscles covering his upper body. His back and torso were covered in old scars and some fresh ones, she noticed. And even some bruises that she had given him. Her eyes wandered over to his shoulder, where his metallic arm met the skin on his shoulder. She was fascinated all over again, even after seeing it many times in the past. It looked so red, torn and painful to her.

"Does it ever hurt?" She asked in a hushed voice, she hadn't meant to say it out loud. He looked over his shoulder towards her, hair covering his face. He knew what she meant.

"No. Hasn't for a long time." He paused. "I remember when they put it on … it was-" Her eyes went wide at the thought of him going through that _consciously_.

"-excruciating." He finished.

A clump was sitting in her throat, she couldn't say anything.

"I will take a shower now." He turned towards her. "Do I need to restrain you?" He cocked his head.

"No…" she mumbled.

He looked at her for a second longer, then turned and she heard his footsteps on stairs somewhere in the back, walking up. She exhaled slowly and felt herself relaxing, she had tensed up again unconsciously. Apparently there was a shower on the upper floor, it was being turned on, hearing the water rush. Her eyes darted towards the door. Just down the hall was the back porch and her way out. Her mind was racing. He had told her if she tried to escape again, he would kill her - that is if he got to her. But she didn't have the car keys, and there was no one around for miles.

Another idea came to her, a more subtle one. Maybe she could get a better internet signal out there, at least she could try that. _Are you really going to risk your life for this?_

Yes, she was. The thoughts were gnawing on her. Once she had defeated her purpose, he would probably kill her anyway. He had said so himself, lives didn't mean anything to him. She shot up and quietly took her laptop, ran through the back door out to the front, trying to not make a sound. She checked the car, it was locked. Then opened her laptop, blinking back to life. _Come on. _The signal was the same out here, non existent, she walked the driveway up and down. _I'm running out of time._

The signal would not come in and she was pushing her luck. Resigned she snapped it shut and sneaked back in, through the yard, quietly closing the door behind her. There was no sound inside. She sat her laptop down and walked back to the room with his bed. He-

Her head exploded in pain and she felt her feet getting pulled away from under her. She fell forward and barely stopped her face from hitting the floor with both arms. _Why the hell had she gone back in?_ She was roughly pulled around to her back, her survival instincts screamed in her head and she kicked hard toward his face, connecting with a thud. He reeled backwards, which gave her time to get up and start sprinting towards the door. It was so close, she was about to yank it open, when an arm wrapped around her waist, another around her throat, squeezing. She buckled in his grip, but he was holding her too tight. _That's it, I gambled and lost._

She felt his stubble right on the side of her face, his hair was still wet and dripping on her skin, smelling of soap. His voice right next to her ear, quiet and deadly.

"Hush." Her throat was tightening and she had trouble breathing. Against her instincts, she stopped struggling, just focusing on breathing, waiting for what would come next.

He was holding her tight against his chest, his wet hair was dripping water down her shoulder and neck, breathing hard himself. He hadn't had time yet to put his shirt back on. She was trying her hardest not to panic, despite being barely able to breath.

"Tell me, what you did out there." The quiet voice, right next to her. It wasn't angry, it was downright menacing. His grip around her throat softened slightly to let her talk.

She swallowed, it was obvious to him what she had done. "I tried… " her voice was strained and raspy. "To get an internet connection."

"To contact someone?" His voice still quiet.

".. Yes." She readied herself for any consequences, she would try her damndest to take him down with her.

He pushed her forward away from him and she stumbled, caught herself and turned to face him. Her kick had given him a bloody nose, that he was wiping away now with one hand.

They glared at each other darkly. He wanted to do something else to her, but was restraining himself hard, holding himself back, which took an immense amount of willpower, she could see it in the way his muscles were working. His other hand was balled to a fist. _If he lost control now, he would rip me to pieces._

"You are making me regret not killing you in the cabin." It took him an effort to speak.

"Then why don't you get it over with, if you are going to do it sooner or later." She spat.

"Not while you are still of help."

"I'm fucking done helping you."

He shook his head, almost looking at her with pity now. "We aren't done yet. You will finish your job here. Do you want me to find that child, or any other child, and kill it in front of you for breaking your bargain?" He cocked his head, questioning. As if it mattered that they had a bargain, he would force her either way.

She gritted her teeth. He raised his eyebrows, expecting an answer.

"Your file will get done, one way or another." She hissed.

That seemed to satisfy him, he walked past her and picked up her laptop and took it away, leaving her alone.

000

He didn't bother her for the rest of the evening, she sat brooding by herself. He wasn't allowing her back on the laptop. Instead she wandered through the house, finding nothing of value, until in one of the rooms on the second floor. In a half empty moving box were a few old magazines. She took them downstairs into the kitchen and started reading, to keep her mind occupied, she got through four or five of them.

Looking up from them, she noticed how dim it had gotten in the house. She had to yawn. Her eyelids had grown heavy, the three hours of sleep she had the previous night were catching up with her. There was nothing in the entire house to get comfortable on, she had checked. No couch or chair that would be good for lying down.

She suppressed another yawn. She dropped the magazine she was holding on the kitchen counter, then slowly slid down on a wall until her bottom touched the cold tile floor, and wrapped her arms around her legs with her head down and dozed off.

Someone was pulling her up, he had taken her arm over his shoulder and dragged her into the other room, letting her down his bed. She curled up in it, feeling a pang of uncertainty, before drifting off to sleep again.

* * *

Thanks for your reviews guys. To answer your question Lazy - yeah, I've been very inspired, and been writing secretly while at work :)

I hope you all like my version of Bucky and Natasha. My Bucky is still influenced by his brutal brainwashing, not knowing who he really is, kind of in limbo, but with a plan in mind. It makes him very indifferent and highly dangerous. But that's only my interpretation anyway.


	10. Stop

She woke at once, her eyes trying to adjust to the grey shadows and blue light filtering in. It felt cold, but a blanket was wrapped around her, keeping her warm. Her body felt so tired, but comfortable, she just wanted to lie here for a while and stretch out. The past two days had drained her. How long had she slept? She still remembered seeing the last sunlight, it must have been 9 or 10 hours. Has it really been that long? She inhaled deeply, smelling him. At once she remembered. It was _his_ blanket and _his_ bed. Her head whipped around, she was alone in the room. Then she heard him bustling in the kitchen.

As she was listening to him, she could smell herself, in bad need of a shower. That would waste some time and give her one more reason to avoid him, not wanting to deal with him right now. With a last stretch, she got up and quietly walked out to the hallway and up the stairs and found the bathroom in the first door. Stepping to the sink, she turned on the faucet and splashed her face with cold water, washing her sleep away. It was so cold that it stung, but it cleared her head. She tried to sort through the thoughts bombarding her. Yesterday, he had caught her red-handed trying to send out a message to SHIELD, she had honestly expected not to walk away from that. But he had held back, that had been obvious. After their falling out, he had dragged her over to his bed to let her sleep there. He was playing games. She didn't like any of this at all, looking at herself in the mirror.

Her reflection was frowning, and tired. She had scratches and scabs on her throat. She would decrypt his damn file and get the hell out, one way or another.

She looked around. This bathroom wasn't actually half-bad looking, it wasn't as dirty as the rest of the house. She turned around and tested the shower, yep, it produced warm water. She felt dirty and sticky from the previous day, her stay in the cabin like an eternity ago. The door lock worked and snapped shut. Not in a hurry, she took off her clothes, even as it hurt to move and twist all her muscles. She inspected her naked body. There were too many bruises to count, all in various states of red and blue color. She traced over them lightly. She supposed she should be angry at him for those, but she wasn't. It was an all too familiar sight to her, with or without him in the picture, her lifestyle brought that with it. She inspected her stitches, they still looked good, healing. Finally, she stepped into the shower, just standing under the hot water for a while, letting her mind go blank. When she felt calm and relaxed, she started scrubbing herself clean, there was a soap bottle and towels for her to use. Probably things that he had brought in.

He hadn't bothered her during her shower. With her hair still damp, she walked back downstairs and into the kitchen. His laptop was sitting on the counter, next to hers. She looked at the code blurring in long lines, rattling down the screen. It hadn't found a way in yet. She had been too fixated on the laptop, when her eyes discovered a surprise on the rest of the counter. There were new grocery bags sitting on it.

"Found the shower?" he asked her quietly behind her.

She flinched. "Mhm." She answered without looking up. He stepped towards the counter and started going through the bags. No trace of anger from yesterday. He paused when he found something, then held it in front of her with one arm. A can of instant coffee. She looked up at him incredulously, his face expressionless.

"Is that for me?"

"Yep."

"How did you.. when did you go buy all that?" She finally turned to face him.

"This morning." He was still holding out the can."You were sleeping pretty deeply, I didn't want to wake you up."

She took the coffee out of his hands. Staring at the several full bags, she couldn't believe that she had not heard him leave or come back.

"I got a few groceries, there are some things for you in there, too."

She started going through the bags, he had bought her - or stolen, she wasn't sure - toiletry articles, shampoo, a toothbrush, and other things. She was stunned. He had been close to killing her yesterday, and she hated him immensely for his intrusion and constant nerve wrecking manners. And at the same time he acted as if he cared about her. He didn't have to do all things, if he hadn't wanted to.

He was being manipulative, she saw right through it, there was an intention to this all. He wanted to keep her long enough for something. Not sure what to say, she glanced at him. But he wasn't watching or expecting anything from her, he was making a cold sandwich, which took all his attention. She followed his idea.

000

They ate their breakfast in silence. She was enjoying the instant coffee, which was probably the second best thing of this morning, right after the shower.

"Natasha."

She met his eyes.

"Who were you trying to contact?" His brows furrowed, as if he really didn't know the answer, or pretended.

"SHIELD." She answered with a sigh. "But it didn't work, the signal here is terrible."

He nodded. "If SHIELD showed up here, what did you think would happen? Do you want me to kill more of your _friends_?" He put an emphasis on that last word, as if it was a lie.

"No, I wouldn't want that." She said calmly. "But you are just one person, and there are a lot of agents." Did he think he was invincible? She thought back on the freeway. He had had resembled a one-man army that day.

"I have fought against worst odds." He shrugged. "SHIELD is weak, they have been crumbling. And what you did, brought them completely to their knees."

She didn't answer, it was partly the truth. But she had uploaded their entire databases to the internet in order to fight the Hydra corruption. She couldn't feel bad for her decision. "Will you go back to Hydra?" She asked him suddenly.

"No." His answer was immediate. "I'm better off on my own."

On some level of her, she could sympathize with him. She had been there, defecting from a former organization, that had treated her badly. He was done eating and put up the leftover food and dishes. Then turned towards her.

"Show me more about your laptop, I want to understand how it works."

She raised her eyebrows. A _go to hell was_ on her lips. But she swallowed it down.

"Does that mean I get it back?" She would rather have it back, than not do anything at all.

He picked it up and handed it to her wordlessly.

They sat back down together. She felt the tension in the air, he must have been aware, too, but he never showed that it bothered him. Her mind kept going back to their fight yesterday. He had acted extremely dangerous, but he had not lost it, like in the cabin. She knew the danger she was in, especially once he didn't need her anymore. She would need to stall him for a bit, afraid of what would happen once his file was open. She could slow down the decryption subtly, although that wouldn't work forever. She just needed to buy more time.

She spent a good part of the next hours showing him how networks and file structures worked and how to access them, and teaching him very basic coding techniques. He soaked up all the information, highly interested. That session had been a long one, and her throat was getting hoarse, from talking so much. She needed to get up. He must have noticed her fidgeting. He let her take a break, and she couldn't get away fast enough from him.

She needed some alone time, it was rare that she spent that much time with a single person, anywhere. The grocery bags crinkled when she looked through them again, taking her new bathroom articles. It was dead silent in the bathroom, but it was heaven to her. She took her time to brush her teeth, tame her messy hair and put lotion on her face and body. This felt about a thousand times better_. _Her mind was in a better place now, as long as she didn't think about him. She came back downstairs and went on reading her magazines alone in the kitchen, while he tried applying his new computer knowledge on his own.

000

It had turned evening, they had skipped lunch. She hadn't been particularly hungry, but now pangs were gnawing on her stomach. She had seen all sorts of groceries in his bags this morning. Thrifting through them, she got a few ideas on what to cook.

Soon after, bacon was sizzling in an old pan, and she had opened canned green beans with it and boiled dumplings in the other pot. He had followed the smell and she saw his surprise on his usually empty face.

He went to make himself a plate, while she stepped aside, letting him go first. He had been calm all day, but she knew it could turn in a heartbeat. Her tone with him had been formal, biting back her remarks as much as she could.

The food tasted delicious even to her, and to her surprise it had all turned out well. He enjoyed his plate quietly, leaning on the long counter. She preferred to sit on the counter again, in absence of chairs and tables.

"Do you like to cook?" He asked suddenly, cutting through the silence. He had eaten almost everything and was watching her finish her meal. _I wish he wouldn't stare all the time_. His question made her almost laugh, it was so out of the blue.

"Me? No. I usually don't cook. I can warm things up in the microwave. But that's how far it goes. I have never really learned it." Which was the truth. She didn't enjoy it, it took too long.

"But you just made all this." He pointed out.

"That was all easy, honestly." She explained."It gets tricky when you have to combine ingredients, I can never get the taste right."

"Why not. It doesn't seem all that difficult."

She gave him an incredulous look. "I just don't have the time for it. I'm not exactly at home a lot." Her life simply wasn't very domestic, she had to travel constantly, within the country and abroad. The last years had been especially tumultuous for SHIELD. A life involving a home, a husband and a dog had just never appealed to her, too much baggage. He looked at her, as if reading her mind.

"You seem to have a very colorful life." It sounded like he was trying to hint at something. He looked calculating from behind his dark hair. She shifted around on the counter, not wanting to answer him.

"How do you like your life so far?" She asked him instead.

He studied her. "It has been… interesting." Pausing. "Do you like being a SHIELD agent?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. Where did that come from?

"It is what I chose to be." She evaded his question and put her plate down next to her. "There are good and bad days." _The bad days are, when I meet people like you. _But she didn't say it out loud. She felt this conversation was taking a wrong turn. He was steering her into a direction.

"You haven't been with SHIELD for a long time. It says in your file. I did take the time to read it all."

She knew that he had. Her hands were on her lap, clasped together. Putting her file out there had been a huge mistake, even though it had been unavoidable at the same time.

"It's quite interesting in fact. You have moved around a lot." He continued, observing her, measuring her reaction. He was finished with his plate and stepped next to her, sitting it next to her on the counter. She could feel his presence on her, being only in arms reach. She sensed that he wanted something and hoped he wouldn't see how nervous he was making her.

"Well. My file is an open book now. Unfortunately." Something she wished she could undo. "Did you like what you saw?" Her voice cynical. It was all out there for everyone to see, her aliases, her past relationships, the crimes she had committed.

"You have done quite a lot of things. Impressive things. I knew I wanted you to work on my file as soon as I became aware. Also-" he cocked his head. "Nobody would miss you. You work notoriously solo for long periods of time." She didn't answer him, there was nothing to say.

"But, as big as your file is, it also has big gaps." He continued, looking at her. She just returned his gaze, keeping a neutral expression on her face. He stepped around to face her. It had the characteristic of a predator, ready to pounce. She tensed innerly, readying herself for whatever.

"Before you became SHIELD, you worked in Russia." Cutting to the meat of it. He was facing her. It's about Russia then. Of course it was. A lot of those parts actually weren't public info. Especially the parts that included him and her, they had never been documented in her SHIELD file. She looked up to him, strands of red hair falling in her face, his eyes bore into her, digging for her secrets.

He slowly brought his hand up to her face, she moved her head back away from him and swatted it away.

"Stop." She was angry, but he wasn't backing down.

He stepped even closer and pushed his way in between her legs, putting his bionic hand on her thigh to hold her there. Her right hand shot out, pressing flatly in his chest, to keep him at arms length. All 230 pounds of him were towering over her, she wouldn't be able to stop him.

"Don't come any closer." She said quietly, warning him.

He looked at her between his dark chunks of hair. "Tell me more about Russia."

"I can't." She lied, her voice husky. "The KGB did something to me, I can't remember. Sound familiar?" His hand felt heavy on her leg.

He put his right hand under her chin, she tried to evade it, but he forced her look at him. He studied her eyes. She drew in a deep breath, holding it. Studying him in return. The messy dark hair, always falling in his face, the deep, pale eyes with a storm behind them. He had a hint of stubble on his sides and chin, the curve of his mouth. In another life he would have been very handsome. His hand reached over to her hair, holding a red strand between his fingers. She was suddenly very afraid he would see something in it that he recognized.

"Stop-" Her voice just a whisper. His eyes darted back to hers, connecting. Something dark and unspoken passed between them. As if both had come to a realization. As if he understood something now. His expression changed to something that was somehow familiar to her, but she couldn't categorize it. She had to look away, glaring down on his armored vest right in front of her. She could feel his breath, just inches away, feel him between her thighs, pushing against her. A knot was pulling in her stomach, she was standing on the edge of an abyss, vast emptiness right beyond her feet and if she took one more step, she would be falling. She couldn't take any more.

"Please-" Her hand was still on his chest, she pushed him back.

He didn't react at first. His weight pushing back into her, trying to get her to respond. Then he slowly stepped back, his arms fell off her. She couldn't look at him, keeping her eyes on the floor.

She slid off the counter and wordlessly almost ran past him, out of the kitchen, out of this intensity, and lied down on the blankets, facing the wall. She shuddered, her heartbeat racing. Her mind was a storm and completely blank at the same time. She forced herself to not think.

Something had happened between them and it had shaken her to the inner core, it felt like the deep, dark place that she had been trying to avoid. She lied awake alone for a long time, before sleep finally came.


	11. Do You Remember?

She drifted out of her sleep, floated out of it, not remembering where she was. Something heavy was wrapped around her waist and tugged just under her belly. There was a warmth pressing into her back and it felt comforting, unconsciously conjuring up memories of past relationships. There had been no nightmares or other interruptions during the night, she felt like she had slept like the dead, her arms and legs feeling heavy, her thoughts sluggish.

Weak, grey morning light was filtering in, just enough to barely illuminate the wall in front of her. She moved her hand to whatever was holding her, it was metallic, but warmed by her body heat. _His_ arm. She was tightly pressed into his body, feeling and hearing him breathe evenly behind her, asleep. His bionic arm was holding her in place, one of his legs was bent forward, intertwining with hers. Sometime during the night he had fallen asleep next to her, without her noticing.

_Tell me about Russia. _

She closed her eyes tightly. He had confronted her, in this intense, menacing way. The thought of their conversation made her cringe. She had seen something change in his eyes before she had to look away. She was afraid to find out what it was.

His torso rose and fell as it pressed tightly into her back, she heard him breathing very closely, his face was in her hair. She lied still again, just listening.

There was a rumble in his chest. His breathing changed, he was shifting his leg between her. She kept staring straight ahead, not moving, when his arm around her relaxed on purpose, giving her more room to move.

She stiffened. _He tried to kill you, two days in a row. _He had wanted several things from her last night, the tension had been so thick that it was making her dizzy. It had not really gone away, for her, their confrontation was unresolved.

Slowly, she turned onto her back, facing him, her shirt had pulled up slightly, his hand moved with her, resting lightly on her stomach. She looked up at him, trying to find his eyes, he was just a dark silhouette in front her. His eyes were watching her, she couldn't see them, but she simply knew.

She felt it was easier to confront him, now that she couldn't see him clearly. Somehow this situation was surreal for her, as if not quite set in reality.

"What do you want from me?" Her voice was hushed. Her question spanned over everything, the kidnapping, his interrogations, his bloodlust.. his advances.

She felt him pressing into her side. "Answers." His voice quiet and hoarse.

His chest was rising into her with every breath. She knew he wanted answers beyond just the file. Aside from knowing his own past, hers had become his focus, as well.

She simply couldn't, or didn't want to give him any more answers. She wasn't going to delve into her most intimate, painful memories, part of which he had caused. His hard, metallic hand was feeling warm on her bare skin under her shirt, his fingertips digging slightly into her soft flesh. He was observing her, not doing or saying anything himself, simply waiting.

She made up her mind. Abruptly, she moved his arm out of the way, which he allowed her, got up on weak legs, stepping over him, and leaving him behind. It felt like waking up from a bad dream.

Her clothes felt stiff on her as she walked up the stairs, she'd been wearing them for three days. She had gone to the bathroom to be as far away as possible, it felt like a safe zone. She splashed her face with water and started brushing her teeth, processing their encounter. His advancement on her the night before.

She knew what he had wanted, aside from answers, that had been clear to her. But he hadn't acted out on it.

Natasha inhaled and exhaled slowly. Something else had happened between them last night, it was as if things were different now, without ever actually spoken out loud. He had seen something in her, something must have triggered a memory, she was guessing.

She had felt familiar to him during that moment, but that had only disturbed her even more. _The Red Room_. She wanted nothing to do with it.

000

She walked back down into the kitchen. The bright screen of his laptop was shining into the cold room basked in morning light. She settled in front of it, bending down slightly to see what was going on.

What she saw worried her. It had been 48 hours and the hack still hadn't found a way in. It concerned her, not because it was taking so long - she was ok with that - but she started to wonder if it could be done at all. Maybe this file was uncrackable with the tools she had. She swallowed. There would be no way that he would react reasonable to those news.

She rose up again. _Hopefully I won't have to find out. _

The next few minutes she spent on heating up a cup of coffee and fixing a cold breakfast. She had no idea how to approach him or how to deal with him after last night. The sink upstairs turned on, he was up and moving too. She went and peaked through the window, it would be a grey, but seemingly dry, day.

000

He had spent some time by himself and it was late morning when he finally came into the kitchen to join her.

"Morning." He said neutrally as he walked by, towards the food, as if nothing had happened.

"Yeah.." She was already starting to fidget, pretending to be busy on the computer, as soon as he had entered the room.

He turned to her. "Is the file done?"

"No, still working. I told you it could take a while." She was looking anywhere but him. She felt like she'd been here forever, that this whole ordeal started such a long time ago.

"Ah." He was eating a sandwich and drinking a bottle of water, keeping his distance to her, for once.

She fidgeted, not sure what to do with her hands. The tension was creeping back, and not having anything else to do, it was driving her up the wall.

"Did you sleep well?" As if he was asking innocently. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah... I do prefer to sleep by myself though." She was looking out of the half boarded kitchen window, seeing the grey neighborhood behind it. _Don't even fall for his routine._

He shrugged "It didn't seem to bother you."

"I didn't have much say in it."

"You left our conversation kind of abruptly last night. Did I make you nervous?"

She felt her face getting hot. He just loved being this blunt, but she forced herself to stay calm.

"It wasn't exactly a conversation.. "

He laughed. "Well, I enjoyed it."

He was making her so angry. Despite her effort to stay collected, he knew exactly how to push her buttons. She was seething. Thinking about the long day ahead in this cramped house, in his company was enough to drive her mad.

"Should we do it again?" He asked her. She could just feel him smirking.

She slammed her hands into the counter and turned around.

"Ok, I've fucking had it." He was looking at her with interest. "I'm going to go outside for a fucking walk, and you can try your damndest to stop or shoot me, but I'm Going. The Fuck. Out." No reaction on his face.

She looked at him for a second longer then walked past him. His hand shot out, grabbing her arm.

"You still haven't answered my question." His voice quiet again, threatening, not bothered at all at her outbreak.

"No, we shouldn't." She said coolly, trying to walk away.

"I'm not done with you yet. Do you remember where we left off last night?" His eyes dark and cold.

She nodded slowly.

"Russia seems to be a sore point for you, but you'll tell me everything you did there." His eyes shifting in between hers.

"I told you I can't-"

"We both know, that is a lie."

This startled her, she swallowed.

"It is at least partly true.." She avoided his eyes. "I'll tell you what I know, if we can go outside." She continued quietly.

He looked at her for a moment longer, then let her go and she went to put on her dirty boots and jacket.

000

They had marched through the depressing, overgrown and run-down neighborhood for an hour. She walked in front of him, but he kept steering her away from the street, even though there weren't any cars in sight either way. They walked through yellow grass patches between empty houses, not seeing a single soul. She was actually scared that they would meet someone, thinking back about that kid.

Despite the decaying, ugly landscape, the fresh air felt incredible good. The sun was hidden behind grey clouds, making everything look faded in front of her.

She had been telling him about her childhood, her introduction to Hydra at a young age, some of her missions, but leaving out many pivotal parts, just so he would let her take this walk. She told him that she couldn't remember any of the violent parts, just to not have to talk about them.

He was listening intently. He finally spoke up. "How do you remember so much, despite having your memory erased?"

"I just do."

"Why did they wipe it out?" He seemed interested about her brainwashing.

"I don't … really know. Hydra has done it a few times to me, always with different consequences. They simply use their subjects as they wish." The thought of Hydra filled her with rage. She pulled her thin hoodie deeper over her face.

He didn't say anything back, walking silently behind her.

"I'm just one of the lucky ones that got away." She continued. "I know they did this to you for a long, long time." She had to remind herself that he was just one of their cruel experiments, somehow an image of the red torn scar of his shoulder and arm floated into her mind.

"Did you do anything special to recall your memories?" He asked her now.

"No." She lied. She knew that all kinds of things could trigger memories. She still didn't know what had triggered in him the night before.

They had walked a big round and were coming up to their own house again. She carefully stepped through the broken fence in the back to enter their yard. Side stepping through all the debris and clutter on the grass and walked up the damaged, small deck, leading to the back porch. He was following in her foot steps.

She wondered if the file was done by now, dreading to be inside again. She had given escape a thought, but with him so close and watchful, it hadn't felt like a good idea. He was carrying his handgun and knife on his belt, she-

She misstepped over a loose board and grabbed out blindly to hold her balance. A hot flash ran along her right upper arm. She dropped to her knees, looking to her side what had happened, and saw long shards of glass along the window sill she had reached for. Immediately, she felt warm liquid running down her arm.

_Not fucking again._

Nausea overcame her, feeling light headed, quickly pressing her left hand into her right arm. She felt a loose piece of skin moving under her hand, as she pressed into the wound. After a few seconds of shock, hot pain started to radiate in her entire arm.

_You got to be fucking kidding me._

He was next to her, kneeling down. "Let me see." She lifted her hand and he carefully inspected it.

"You cut it pretty bad."

"No shit." She was gritting her teeth together, trying not to throw up. She looked up, pleading now. "Can you… take me to an E.R.?"

He got up. "You know I can't do that. Go inside to the bathroom, I'll be right back. Press it tight." Helping her up as well.

She suddenly felt like crying, but blinked back her watering eyes. "I fucking know that I need to press it." Clenching her teeth together hard. She was just tired of it all. She had to lean on the back porch door frame, her head felt very light. _Don't pass out._

He was gone. She carefully walked herself inside to the bathroom, blood running between her fingers, leaving a trail on the floor.

000

She was sitting on the toilet and he was getting ready to stitch her up, once again. For the second time in three days. He had gone to his car and pulled out another suture kit, his personal one.

Natasha was chewing her lip. Her eyes were burning hot, and not just from the physical pain, it was just too much for her, her mind was exhausted and over loaded.

He had told her that it would stitch together fine, after cleaning he saw that the glass had sliced open a nice, clean flab on her arm. She didn't want to look at it.

_One more fucking scar._

They had been silent, while he unwrapped the sterile instruments, the empty packages crumbling on the floor. He had wordlessly given her a couple pain and fever reducing pills. Then he began cleaning the wound as best as he could. She couldn't stop the tears running down her face, ashamed of them. But for once, he didn't say anything or made fun of it.

"Ready?" He held up the needle.

She nodded, not looking at him, her eyes focusing on a spot next to him on the wall. He had her turn closer to him and rested her am on his knees, pulling her half over to him, to keep her from shaking it.

The first stitch stung badly, he had to hold her arm tight, so she wouldn't pull away. For once, she didn't care how close he was, she was too worried about the wound. It had stopped bleeding so badly.

The needle was a bit less painful than the cleaning had been, but she bit her teeth so hard together that her jaw started to hurt. She knew he was good at what he was doing, that comforted her a bit. And, as if he had read her mind, he spoke up.

"It's something I learned a long time ago." He looked down at her. "Back in the army."

"Mhm." She said between her teeth. Her forearm was lying on his leg, her hand holding onto the side of his pants, while he worked on the upper arm.

"I did basic first aid classes in the first years in the army. I learned a lot about first response care."

"It's helpful, for sure." She responded absent minded, trying to blend out the pain of the needle, her fingers were digging hard into his leg, but he ignored it.

"Those memories have been coming back more and more. I liked the army, I just didn't like going to war." He explained. She didn't know what to answer and just let him ramble. Maybe he was doing it to distract her.

"I was under guidance of a very good army doc, he showed me a lot of things, even with all the traveling. We travelled a lot from base to base." He laughed. "I remember, I had a sweetheart at each." He sounded like a normal human being, right that second. But somehow she didn't want to know about that particular topic.

His smile vanished and his face went blank again, concentrating on her arm.

"All this first aid knowledge, I learned much about the human body. Where its weak points are. It came in handy later, on assignments, to take out targets more effectively." He continued casually.

Her eyes darted to him. She had been silent while he was talking, now she furrowed her brows.

"I remember one mission clearly now. I had to kill a target and his family, he had been guarded well, but-"

"Enough of that." She interrupted him, growing angry. He sounded so proud of himself, for what he had done.

He actually stopped talking after that. Just concentrating on sewing her up. It went faster than she thought. She felt him making the last knot on her arm. Releasing her grip on him, her fingers were stiff, she hadn't even noticed how tight she must have dug into his skin. She was simmering. Whenever he showed a somewhat human side, he flipped it around and casually showed how little anything meant to him, void of emotions.

He severed the thread and let all the instrument fall into the kit. He got up slowly, trying not to bump her arm, then stepped over to the sink. His hands had been covered in blood, again. It felt like deja vu for her.

He looked over to her. "Did this strike a nerve? Have you done something similar?" Referring to his assassination assignment.

So he wasn't going to let this rest. She was pissed, despite his help.

"Tell me this, Barnes." Glaring at him angrily, feeling too weak to stand up yet. "Why do you want to remember so badly? Why can't you just move on? The things you know are awful enough, just let it rest already." She looked up to him from her seated position. She continued. "I have seen and done terrible things myself under Hydra. And believe me, _not_ knowing can be a bliss sometimes."

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that what you are doing? Moving on from terrible things? I thought you couldn't remember all that." He had caught her lie, or maybe known the entire time.

Why was he always returning the questions, instead of giving a damn answer.

"Honestly, yes. That's what I'm doing." She snapped back. "I'd rather not remember a lot of things, but unfortunately the brainwashing they did, wasn't worth a damn."

She had his full attention now. He had turned toward her and had grown silent, observing her. She noticed the gears in his head turning.

"Is there anything specific, that you remember?" He asked quietly. He took a step back over to her.

She didn't respond.

"Anything that could be of interest?" He was measuring her, she could sense how important this was for him.

She didn't answer immediately. He was stalking her again, her nerves were on the edge.

"I have told you all kinds of different things already.." She evaded his question. His eyes were boring into her, she had to avert her own, looking at the floor.

He was silent. She could feel her heart beat racing. He spoke up.

"Do you remember - _us_?"

And _there_ it was. Her stomach felt hot and cold, she wanted to throw up. He knew now, about _them_, or probably had known since last night. Something must have brought back that memory for him. Images of him in the Red Room filled her mind, him fighting her, devouring her.

She cringed, not wanting to go there.

"Because I do now." He continued. "I was your guide, and you were… my student." His face neutral, not showing how he felt about that.

"Well." She shot up. "I guess that's what we were." She hated him, wanting nothing more than leaving the cramped little space of this bathroom. She tried to storm past him, leaving this conversation, but he grabbed her right arm, it sent a painful wave through her body. She swung at him with her other fist and punched him in the stomach, his thick vest taking most of the force. He didn't seem to feel it and took ahold of her other arm. She tried to struggle away.

"I remember your red hair the most. You always had a temper."

She stopped, looking at him. The pain of the cut and the blood loss, the stress of the past three days, her constant brushes with death, her terrible nightmares of the Red Room, it was all flooding her. The Red Room had been one of the worst things that had happened in her life and he was trying to pull her into it again.

"_I_ was the one with the temper?" She almost screamed at him. "You came close to killing me many times, over little things. Case in point the last three days with you. You have _no_ idea what that was like for me. The damn pain and hunger I went through, to somehow go through your ridiculous training, not sure if I would survive the day. I was alone, and hungry and freezing, every damn night, just so you could add some more bruises to it, the next day. I-"

It was pouring out of her, she couldn't stop herself. His face had softened as he listened, his pale eyes looking at her sadly.

"I fucking hate you. For what you did to me." She spat.

She had finally said it, it was immensely relieving.

"I did, what I needed to do." He said softly. He pulled her into him, she was trying to push away. She felt his big chest and his arms wrapping around her.

"You have no idea..." She whispered, looking up to him. "You have no fucking idea."

"I think, I do.." He leaned forward, his hair was falling on her face. She felt heat radiating from him, he was towering over her, holding her so close to him. His face leaned against her forehead, beard stubble scratching her skin and she felt his even breath on her. She wanted to push him away. He moved his head lower, pressing his forehead into hers, his lips were so close. Her heart was racing, she was breathing hard.

She opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, when his lips closed around hers. She froze, but didn't flinch away. He held her still, his lips pressed on hers. She inhaled deeply, smelling his musky scent, felt the sensation on her lips, felt his stubble around her mouth.

He let go off her left hand and she moved it on his thick bicep, feeling the muscles through the armor, digging her fingernails into him.

She was feeling his hand on her lower back, pressing her further into his armored vest. She felt him craving her, wanting more. His hand moved slowly up her back, over her neck and into her hair. He grabbed it and forced her head to lean to the side. She obliged and opened her lips, letting him in. A deep rumble went through his chest, she felt it vibrating in her. His tongue was wet on hers, slowly gliding into her mouth, she could taste all of him, his particular scent was invading her mouth, filling her out. Heat was collecting in her stomach, it was making her knees weak. She slid her hand on his neck, feeling the muscles work in it.

She couldn't form a thought, all her senses were taken over by him. His bionic hand was tracing slowly over her body, from her waist, slowly over her right breast holding it in his palm, feeling heavy on her.

She couldn't suppress a moan, stuck in her throat, it made his chest rumble in return, he pushed her into the door, pressing into her. She felt his heat pushing into her waist, her heart was beating so fast. He was devouring her mouth, leaning against her. His hands grabbing her roughly on her hips to grind against him.

"James.." She whispered between kisses. He put his tongue back deep into her, she felt it heavy on her own.

He was relentless, breathing hard against her, wanting her, invading her. He started pulling on the front of her jeans, opening the buttons. She was getting light headed, her vision was turning dark.

"James, I can't… not now.." She leaned back against the door, breaking their kiss. He stopped his movements and looked down at her. His pale eyes under that dark hair, now suddenly so deep, she saw every emotion possible.

She had completely let her guard down. Her body and emotions were betraying her -_but it felt so good. _Her legs were about to give out from under her, her head felt dizzy.

"I'm about to pass out." He looked at her for a moment longer, then took her arm over his shoulder and walked her downstairs.

* * *

**Alright, this was so much fun to write, which is weird, I'm not a writer at all. I had to get this chapter out, but the next ones might come slower, fyi. Let me know what you all think.**


	12. A Rough Awakening

He helped her walk to the makeshift bed and carefully let her down on it. Natashas head was pounding so hard by then, she could barely see straight. He walked to the kitchen and she heard him shuffle in there. He came back with two bottles of water and a power bar.

"Drink this." Putting it down next to her.

Her head was spinning and she closed her eyes, laying an arm over her face to shut out all the light. The nausea came and went in waves, and she was just concentrating on keeping her breakfast down.

Her emotions were a blur, she couldn't possibly sort through them all. She had willingly kissed him, she couldn't deny that. And she had laid out her raw, and most private feelings in front of him, put it all on the table, in an emotional outburst that she was regretting already. She didn't want what they had between them in the Red Room. She had hoped the entire time that he would not remember. And now that it happened, he was already taking advantage of it.

The things she had said - screamed - at him, they had been aimed at the Winter Soldier from her past. His words had conjured up this hate in her, something she had locked up for a long time. But the person that was holding her captive now, felt like a different person, albeit with the same characteristics. Still, she wondered what kind of impact her outburst had on him.

Their long, passionate kiss. She hated to admit it, but it had felt good. But at the same time, the rational side of her brain told her - screamed at her - that it was simply wrong. He was her kidnapper and captor, emotionally void, and highly manipulative.

She now sorely wished she hadn't completely let down her guard to someone she didn't trust.

She could still feel his hands on her, one holding her breast tightly, taste his lips on her mouth, it was sending butterflies into her stomach.

000

He quietly sat down next to her head, on the edge of the blankets. She had turned sideways, her hair falling in her face, it felt messy and sticky on the side she had lain on. _Did I fall asleep?_ She wasn't sure. Her throat was dry and her right arm was painfully warm, feeling her pulse throbbing in the wound.

She felt his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. Interrupting her thoughts.

"You need to drink." He was shaking her softly awake.

She opened her eyes slightly. The sun had finally come out on this cloudy day and was hanging low, making the room glow orange, she had definitely slept. It must be early evening, she guessed.

She pushed herself off the blanket, still somewhat disoriented, her newest stitches pulling very painfully on her skin, before she shifted her weight to her other arm. Slowly, she dragged her legs off the blanket and scooted into a sitting position, leaning her back into the wall, stretching out her legs carefully. He was sitting right next to her, leaning against the wall, his knees pulled up to him and resting his arms on them. His head was facing somewhere straight ahead, instead of her, his long hair hanging over the side of his face. She couldn't see his eyes, when she looked over, to try to decrypt his mood.

He bent forward to grab a bottle and wordlessly handed it to her. She took it and drank all 16 ounces in a few sips, the cold water making her stomach hurt.

They sat in silence, Natasha didn't know what to say and waited to let him go first.

"How are you feeling?" He finally cut through the silence, actually sounding sincere.

"Better." She mumbled. Her head was still pounding due to the loss of fluids.

"You lost a good amount of blood."

"Yeah." She thought about her fall this morning. "That was just.. one stupid, wrong step." She usually wasn't this clumsy, but it didn't surprise her any more, after her whole stressful ordeal with him so far.

She reached for the power bar and started eating it, although she wasn't feeling hungry. But she had to have something in her stomach, it was queasy.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier, about us?" He asked suddenly, his voice soft, still staring ahead.

"And when should I have done that, before or after you were throwing me across the cabin?" That dripping sarcasm again. She felt bad immediately. Aside from not wanting to, there wouldn't have been any good moment to bring that up. She was chewing on a piece of the energy bar, forcing it down.

He didn't respond. She softened her answer a bit. "I didn't want to… it's not the easiest memories."

"It explains a lot now." He sounded like he had been doing a lot of thinking himself, while she had been out. "You were looking at me strangely all the time, like you were hiding a secret."

She wasn't aware that it had been so obvious to him.

"It also finally explains my own reaction to you." He continued, there was almost something like relief in his otherwise neutral voice.

"Which was what?" Her curiosity was taking over, she looked up to him.

"I couldn't forget about you, ever since we fought on that street. There was something about you. But I couldn't hold on to that thought." He paused. "I did follow you around for a bit, the weeks after, trying to understand why I was so drawn to you. I installed the tracker early on, just in case."

Her eyes went wide, she had had no idea that she had been under surveillance all that time.

"You followed me all the way to the cabin because you were _drawn_ to me?" She asked incredulously. She had underestimated just how well he could think and plan ahead for everything.

"Well, partly. I knew that you are good with gathering intel." He paused. "And you are right. I wanted to find out where I had seen you before. That house in the wood was the perfect place to get to you undisturbed." He explained casually.

She felt shocked, but mostly because what he was saying made perfect sense to her. _Thanks Nick, for sending me right into his arms. _But she tried to not get angry at her boss, he couldn't have known.

"And it paid off." He said, still not looking at her, but she could sense him smiling. "My instincts were right, I have known you in my past."

It was interesting to hear his side of the story. She now felt incredibly foolish for ignoring her anxiety about him for several weeks, she should have been better prepared.

"At what point did you remember?" She was too curious to not ask, now that he was actually answering questions.

He turned to her now, his eyes locking with hers, the long hair brushing over his shoulder as he turned his head. She felt small next to him. There was a glimmer in them.

"Last night. During our little stand-off." He said, half smiling.

The scene was unfolding in her mind again, him standing in front of her, between her legs, holding a strand of her hair.

She just nodded, yeah, that had been obvious.

"And then more, just earlier." His eyes not leaving hers, measuring her reaction.

She looked away, keeping her face neutral, not giving him the satisfaction to see how it made her feel. Was he hinting at their past intimacy? She couldn't be sure if he knew all the parts of their former relationship. She had only very recently become aware herself.

"I showed you a lot of things in the Red Room." He continued. "You were different back then. Weaker." He was also sorting through all the new knowledge in his head.

He was starting to irritate her. "Of course I was weaker, compared to you. I met you, when I had just started the program" She said annoyed. "And you were quite different, too."

"I guess, I was." He trailed off.

She was not going to get angry. She honestly had no idea where they were standing, but she was stuck with him if she wanted or not, doubting very much that he would let her go.

"Let's eat." He suddenly got up and grabbed her hand to pull her up.

"I'm not hungry right now."

"But I am. And you're going to eat, too." Giving orders again, he was pulling her into the kitchen. She frowned, some things may have changed, but for the most part he was still her captor.

000

He was heating up the food for once, something canned again. The smell and thought of it made her queasy, holding her stomach.

She checked the progress on his laptop, it had been standing untouched in the kitchen since this morning. Nothing yet, the program was still running. _This can't be good_. She tried her best to keep a neutral expression on her face. He was too busy with the food to look at her.

He took himself a bowl and then handed her one, which she half-heartedly started to eat, crouched over the counter. _A damn table and some chairs sure would be nice._

"Why is it taking so long?" He was looking at the laptop and then her, his face neutral.

She sighed. She was starting to need a good answer. "Well, let me explain how brute-force works. It is used when there is no other easy option to crack a password. It runs automatically through a huge catalog of possible passwords, and they can be very long. It will try them one by one, until it finds the correct one, by pure chance. The more computing power you have, the faster it goes, but this one here, it's not all that great. It is a proven method though, so just be patient."

She swallowed. She honestly wasn't sure if it would work or not.

He looked at her indifferently. "We will see."

She wanted to know what would happen when the file was open, but that question was scaring her. He would bluntly tell her the truth, if she asked. The thought alone made her heart race. Despite their intimate moment, she had no doubts about his brutal resolve to things.

"I'm getting really tired of this house." She said instead.

He just shrugged. "We are only here still, because the file isn't open yet."

_And am I going to leave alive after it is done?_

A thought crossed her mind for a second. She could use her body to manipulate him instead, sleep with him, gain his trust, get him to do what she wanted, like she had done with many other men in the past. But she ruled out that idea immediately. It would not work on him, she knew. He might play along, and then kill her anyway.

After they had finished eating, she took another water bottle while he rinsed the dishes in the sink. She stepped next to him.

"I'm going to sit outside for a bit, on the porch. I need some fresh air." She honestly did, the stale air in this house was irritating her sinuses and contributed to the headache.

He raised an eyebrow at her request, calculating. She was holding her breath unconsciously.

"Go ahead."

She slowly walked across the house and let herself out the back door, and sat down on the porch step. The barren backyards in front of her were painted in orange and purple, she listened to crickets in the grass, drinking her water. Heavy footsteps behind her, he walked out and sat next to her.

They sat in silence for a long time, the sun had gone down and the last daylight shone on the horizon. The little bit of warmth of the day stayed for a while. It had turned into a rather nice early fall evening, despite the grey start. There were several crumbling and boarded up houses in the distance, ruining the otherwise nice view of the cloudy sunset spectacle. And the silence was eerie out here. She didn't like this place.

"What a shitty neighborhood." Not sure why she had said it out loud, her mind was just wandering.

He didn't respond right away, lost in his own thoughts.

"Do you think anyone is missing you by now?" He asked her out of the blue. His voice was low.

She glanced over to him. "I would hope so…"

Their eyes met, something wordless passing between them.

Neither of them continued the conversation. She had expected that he would start prodding her about their scene in the bathroom, but he never did.

000

The last light had vanished and it started getting cooler. She was getting ready to go back in, but something was worrying her. Was he expecting something from her tonight? She was not going to give into him, but she was worried how he would take it. Would she have to fight him off?

"I'm going to bed." She moved to get up quickly, but he pulled her back down.

He had turned towards her, holding her arm. His face was faintly illuminated by distant lights, their eyes met and he held her in his gaze, making her heart beat faster.

He slowly pulled her over to him and gave her a quick kiss on her lips, then released her.

Without another word she got up, walked inside and lied down on the bed. She was trying to listen for his footsteps, worrying that he would follow her.

_It's all just games to him._

He didn't come in for as long as she was awake. Sleep finally overtook her.

000

The first thing she registered was someone roughly shaking her. It was still pitch black outside and she felt like she had just closed her eyes.

"Natasha. Get up." A hard voice.

He was standing in front of her, weak ceiling light shining in from the hallway.

"We are leaving. Now. Get your stuff." Commanding her coolly.

Her brain was lagging behind. "What-?"

"I said. Get. Up." He sounded extremely impatient and harsh. He turned around and quickly walked out of the room.

She did what he ordered her to do. She got up, barely able to gather a thought, and walked over to her backpack. She took it, then walked into the kitchen. He walked in right behind her, stowing things in her bag left and right. He had the rifle over his shoulder.

"Take the laptops." He barked at her. An icy stab entered her heart. _It feels like the cabin all over again. _He was being distant, wearing an indifferent look on his face. _You know that this is his true face._

She carefully put both into her backpack, he grabbed her by the arm and drug her to the back door, pushing her through it. They reached his car and he had her get in and started the engine, pulling out of the driveway before she knew it. This all had taken maybe two minutes.

"What the hell is going, why are we leaving?" Despite his cold demeanor, waking her up this roughly had pissed her off.

He didn't immediately respond, he stepped on the gas, flying down the street.

"Just a hunch." Was all he said.

She put her seat belt on, her adrenaline had been spiking, just now coming down from it.

She looked out of the window, so many questions coming to her mind. But his whole body language told her not to approach him, so she just sat still, looking out into the night.

* * *

I wanted to give a warning that the next chapters will get darker again. Bucky is not a nice guy, at least not in my story.

I also want to give a shout out to everyone that has followed/fav'ed and reviewed, you all make me so happy :)


	13. Home Invasion

**Ok here it is, the re-written chapter! It's gotten pretty long, enjoy! And yes, I re-wrote because the previous version didn't fit the characters as much, imo. I got a bit carried away.  
**

* * *

She hadn't been able to sleep since their sudden departure, the distress of it still sitting in her bones. It felt good to leave that house behind, but she was worried about where he was going. And _why_.

The clock showed that roughly two hours had passed, it was very early morning. The landscape flitting by her passenger's side window had changed from suburban city to a more rural country setting. They were going somewhere south into Maryland. She noticed he was driving on smaller highways, instead of the interstate.

She'd been sitting still the entire time and was starting to smell her unwashed clothes on her, it wasn't exactly pleasant. Her jeans were clinging to her and the shirt and hoodie felt sweaty, she had her jacket over her lap. She hoped that wherever they were going, she could get some new clothes or get hers cleaned somehow.

Barnes had been brooding silently behind the steering wheel. She could plainly see that he was angry. There was a moment that sent a chill up her spine, thinking that it was her fault somehow, because she rejected him in the bathroom. But that didn't seem to be it.

The silence of the past two hours was nagging on Natasha, she was chewing her lip. Why was she so afraid of his moods? She could handle other tough guys with ease. She decided to go for it.

"Can I ask you where we are going?" She asked deliberately softly, looking at his dark silhouette. It was still dark in the car, blue morning light barely reaching over the horizon.

"You'll see." He growled.

"What did you mean earlier, by _just a hunch_?" She wasn't backing down.

"It means, that I should have killed that boy." He shot her an angry glance.

Her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement, then she thought she understood.

"Is someone after us?"

"Apparently so." He looked straight ahead again and she sensed he was done talking.

Natasha hadn't seen or heard anything, but she guessed that the kid might have confided in the local police or even SHIELD. It would be an unusual thing for a homeless teen to do, but the Washington public had been on the edge ever since the SHIELD disaster. Public shootings, bombings and the destruction of a highrise will do that to a population. And, although many of details never made it to the public, they had shown footage of Barnes and his team on the news after their rampage on the overpass. And even if that kid had recognized him or not, people were more willing to report bad guys after this. They might have sent a cruiser to check for any signs of a guy with a huge gun.

If Barnes had somehow detected police in the area, she had probably come very close to being rescued. She was filled with relief and dread at the same time. Relief, because it meant they would be looking for them and hopefully had a description on his car. Dread, because it had made Barnes much more dangerous, he was on the edge again.

He had reduced his speed and they were slowly rolling down a rural road, flanked by farmlands with misty fields and thick forests, somewhere in the idyllic parts of Maryland. It was actually a very pretty landscape this early in the morning, compared to where they had stayed earlier. She thought it was interesting that he was leaving the city again. His hasty departure indicated that he didn't want to meet SHIELD after all.

They were passing little craftsman houses and ranches every other mile. He kept looking concentrated out of the window, as if searching for something.

On a particularly wooded stretch of road, he slowed down and turned into a private gravelled path. It was a slow, bumpy drive for about a hundred yards. It ended at a single, small farmhouse, surrounded by trees on the backside and a field in the front. It was a good way off from the main road, secluded.

He stopped the engine. His fingers were lightly drumming on the steering wheel, calculating.

Her thoughts were racing. _Is this an accomplice's home? He works alone, though._ She looked at the little ranch, it looked like any other rustic home in the country. A bit run-down, with random equipment and tools strewn around in the yard. A big porch with some furniture cramped on it, a couple of boots next to the door, and other knick knacks. There were weeds growing around it, it didn't look well maintained. _Did he randomly pick it? _Her heart was suddenly in her throat.

"Whose house is that?" She asked him nervously.

He turned to her, his eyes cold, measuring.

"Stay in the car." His voice hard.

He took his rifle and started to open the car door. Her hand shot out, grabbing his arm. She was pleading.

"Tell me what you are going to do in there." Her voice sounding desperate. "What if there is a family?"

He looked at her silently. Her eyes were begging him, her fingernails digging into his arm.

"There isn't." He answered finally. "It's an old Hydra safe house. I've stayed here before for a mission."

She took a second to process that. "Out _here_?"Natasha furrowed her brows in confusion. "What if Hydra is in-"

"Just stay in the car." He interrupted her, and looked at her, his eyes unreadable.

She nodded slowly. He took his rifle and left abruptly, closing the car door quietly.

000

He had vanished into the front door. Natasha looked outside the car window. There was a big field to her right - maybe corn she guessed - it had a lazy layer of fog floating on it. The first sunlight was just now breaking over the horizon, casting it into an almost surreal, beautiful scene out of a picture book.

She looked to the house, standing silent, foreboding. She had a very bad feeling creeping up her spine. _Something isn't right_. She put her hand on the door handle, and paused. He was not in a good mood right now, she wasn't sure if she should go against his orders.

_But what if the house isn't empty?_ Dealing with Hydra could be very dangerous. _I wish he had left me a gun_.

That's when she heard the gun shots. She flew out of the car and ran up the porch, unable to _not_ get involved. The front door opened quietly for her. She carefully peaked through it, and walked right into a dark kitchen. There were sounds of a struggle somewhere in the back.

Another gunshot, in the distance. She flinched.

She looked around a corner into the dark hallway leading out of the kitchen. A figure was standing half-way down, turned with their back to her, crouched next to a wall. She could barely make them out - it wasn't Barnes - but the person was completely distracted by what was going on in one of the rooms ahead, aiming a handgun. He was wearing a dark combat uniform, similar to the Winter Soldier. _He has to be Hydra_. Barnes had to be in one of the rooms ahead, fighting someone else. Did he even know about the second guy in the hallway?

She had no weapon, but she had the advantage of surprise. She ran at him as quiet as possible and kicked her boot full force into his right knee. He went down with a scream, losing the gun in the process. She was already on top of him, diving for it as it clattered away. He didn't give up that quickly and roughly threw himself on her, punching her in the side. She gasped in pain, kneed him hard into his stomach and made another grab for the gun, which was still out of reach.

A gunshot echoed through the hall, so painfully loud it made her ears ring, she felt the bullet hit somewhere close. Her attacker screamed and let go of her, holding his torn leg. She threw him off and rolled onto her stomach, looking up, towards the faintly lit room ahead.

Barnes stood in the doorframe, aiming the M4A1 at both of them on the floor, his face dark.

Natasha was breathing hard. She wasn't sure if she was happy or pissed to see him.

_Rather him than Hydra. _A voice in her head said.

He walked into the hall in front of Natasha and the bleeding, squirming man and kicked the loose gun on the floor behind him. Then he shouldered the rifle and pulled up the Hydra agent with two hands, slamming him into the wall. Despite his wound, the agent threw a punch at Barnes, which he easily dodged, and in return swung his bionic arm to hit the guy with a sickening crunch, breaking several delicate bones in his face. The man's head flung to the side, gasping in pain.

"Is there anyone else here?" Barnes voice was downright deadly, squeezing the agent's throat shut.

"Go... fuck yourself." Was all the man was able to croak out of his bleeding face. Barnes took one hand and pressed his thumb into the gun wound on the guy's thigh, making him cry out in pain.

Natasha had pulled herself off the floor, and taken a step backward. She was stunned at Barnes' display of violence. _Remember, it's Hydra…_

Barnes paused, he had seen something in the agent's face. He slammed his bionic hand into the guy's mouth, probably knocking out a few teeth, but it was too late. The man's mouth started foaming and his lifeless body slumped down the wall, onto the floor. _A freaking cyanide capsule, they still use those?_

Natasha hadn't been able to move, completely mesmerized in shock by the scene in front of her. She had to hold the side of her stomach, which was hurting painfully now.

Barnes stared at the dead man for a second longer, then turned towards her, his eyes dark and deadly. She shrank back a bit. _I had been so close to that damn gun. _He looked liked he was about to do something to her, she took another step backward.

"Go get the bags from the car." His voice deceptively calm, but his dark eyes told another story.

Without another word she staggered out of the dim hallway into the now bright kitchen and out the door.

000

The cold air outside felt fresh on her skin, the house had smelled stuffy in comparison. She shouldered the backpack and took two other bags he had in his car. It was quickly getting brighter with the sun coming up.

She took a deep breath. The fight had shaken her, her ears were still ringing and her stomach felt numb in pain. He had just killed at least two Hydra agents. She couldn't feel bad about their deaths, but it felt like a mistake to come here.

Slowly she went back up the porch and stood in the sunlit kitchen, taking a good look for the first time.

The kitchen was old and modest, but relatively clean looking. There were groceries strewn on the counter and in the cabinets. Layers of dust covered a lot of areas, the little ranch didn't look very much lived in. It all appeared to just be a temporary residence, much like Barnes had said.

_This isn't a safe place though, if it has been housing Hydra agents_, she thought worryingly.

There was a noise down the hall and she peaked around the corner. Barnes was dragging two bodies out of a door in the back, leaving a bloody trail on the floor. She knew the blood and gore should have bothered her, but it simply didn't. She was too desensitized to it. _He's not the only messed up person here, and you know it._

She frowned. What else might be in this deceptively peaceful looking house? Weapons? Other surprises? Natasha decided to worry about that later.

She unpacked the laptops and was connecting them to outlets when Barnes came back into the kitchen. She saw from the corner of her eyes that he was bending over slightly and had a hand on his vest, leaning against the counter, his back to her. It made her turn fully towards him, mustering him up and down.

"Did you get hit?" She found, that she sounded almost worried.

Instead of answering, he started to take of his vest, opening all buckles. He was straining, it was barely noticeable, but she did see it. He pulled it over his head, pulling his good arm out of the sleeve, and let it clatter to the ground. Natasha couldn't stand still anymore, she took two steps to him and picked it up, holding it in front of her. A flat bullet was lodged deep into the thick Kevlar material, near where his right rib cage would be, she pried it out. He had turned to her and lifted his insulated undershirt, looking down on himself. There was an angry, red bruise on his right side.

"You got lucky." Her voice hushed.

He carefully touched around the bruise. "It's nothing." He pulled his shirt down, sounding annoyed.

She laid his vest on the counter and went to turn around, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her close to his chest. He was looking intensely at her.

"Follow my orders when I tell you to." His voice was calm but serious. "I almost shot you in that hallway." Natasha thought he sounded worried for a second.

She put a hand on his chest to keep him pushed away. Without his armor she could feel his hard body underneath, it was strange without his vest on. She looked up to him, his hair was hanging messily into his face.

"If you had a feeling that there were Hydra agents in here... Well, maybe you should have given me a gun." She shot back at him.

"And why would I do that?" His eyebrows rising at her suggestion.

"Just maybe so you wouldn't have a bullet in your vest now." Her words were biting.

His expression turned dead serious, he returned her glare for a moment.

"I don't need your help handling this." He sunk his head closer to hers. "Just do as I say. Understood?" He said quietly.

"...Yes….sir." Mocking him. She was pissed at this whole situation, that he was carelessly leading her into Hydra's arms, vulnerable, without protection for herself.

He ignored her sarcasm and dropped his hands, turning to rummage in the bags on the counter.

On some level it satisfied her that he was hurt - _payback is a bitch_. But she couldn't find any joy in it either. This day had just started, and she already felt empty and exhausted. She looked around their new home with a deep sigh.

000

Natasha started walking down the hall by herself, exploring the house.

She opened the door to a random room, it had a neatly made bed in it, with a dresser and random furniture stowed along the wall - a guest room. There was a living room with a couch set up and a somewhat modern tv. She avoided the main bedroom for now, where Barnes had killed the other agent. Trails of blood were still in the hall and on the walls. She frowned and stepped over them.

She found a laundry room.

Natasha felt strangely out of place, but did it anyway. She took off most of her clothes then put them in the washing machine with some detergent, turning it on. She walked back to one of the other bedrooms and found some temporary clothes that might fit her, even though they were cut for men. A simple loose pair of pants and small t-shirt would do. There was a bathroom that was right down the hall and she needed a shower, badly. Worries were gnawing on her. She didn't feel like she should to be here.

She showered, carefully minding the stitches on her thigh and arm, and washed off all the blood and sweat from the previous days. She couldn't enjoy it and didn't spend any more time in that room than necessary. The foreign clothes felt strange on her, when she stepped out into the hall, barefoot.

000

She found him in the living room, lying on the big couch, seemingly asleep. His arms were crossed over his huge chest, one leg was hanging off with his foot placed on the floor, the other leg was stretched out over the armrest of the couch.

She sat into a big cushioned chair, next to his feet. Taking a deep breath.

"Great pick for a safe house. It doesn't seem so safe to me, having to murder two people to stay here."

He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to her, dark, long strands of hair moving to his side. His eyes looked pale, albeit tired. He made a shrugging motion.

"It doesn't matter. We are here now. Aren't you all about moving on?" He answered sleepily.

She glared at him.

"This is your idea of laying low? Whatever is left of Hydra might become aware that we are in one of their places. Shooting at everything will raise suspicions sooner or later, don't you get that?" Maybe he would understand from this angle. She felt like a hypocrite though, thinking about her own mishandled missions in the past.

"And?" He sounded bored.

Antagonizing him probably wasn't the best idea right now, but she had so much she wanted to say to him, to get a reaction.

"I thought you weren't afraid of SHIELD either, but here you are, on the run." She watched him.

He smiled at her coolly, but didn't answer. After a moment he turned his head again and closed his eyes, the conversation was over.

She looked at him, but not daring to make a move in order to escape him. Her foot wouldn't sit still, she kept tapping it, seeing images in her head of him crushing that man in the hallway.

Agitated, she grabbed the remote from the coffee table and switched on the small flat screen tv sitting on a cabinet and leaned back in the chair, trying to blend out her thoughts.

She hadn't watched any tv in almost a week. But she also hadn't missed anything, all news stations had mostly moved on from the Triskelion disaster, there were more important things happening in other countries. She kept zapping for a long time, not really registering anything on the screen.

He was actually sleeping now, she could tell, his chest rising and falling evenly. She turned her head to him, watching him. Wondering what was going on in that disrupted brain of his. Just yesterday they had been in that little bathroom. They had kissed passionately. She had blended out everything else, it had been just him, on her. A raw, emotional act. _How far would I have gone_? It conjured up mixed emotions.

000

It had turned into early afternoon, the sun was hanging lower. She had gone to the washing machine and put everything into the dryer. _Thank god there is a dryer. _She wandered around the house while he was sleeping. She couldn't find the guns of the two agents, or any other guns for that matter. He must have taken care of that. She ripped open some of the windows to let some air into this stuffy house, which helped a bit. Still, this place made her uncomfortable, anything Hydra did.

There was a bookshelf in one of the rooms. Maybe leftovers from long forgotten owners, who knew. She was looking at all available books, when the dryer went off. Her own washed clothes felt amazing on her skin, the best thing to come out of this stay so far.

Her stomach started to growl and she wandered into the kitchen.

She searched through the cabinets and old fridge, finding lots of different groceries, most with long expiration dates. Not feeling like making anything elaborate, she instead got out a somewhat stale bread and a jar of peanut butter. She looked for a butter knife and opened all drawers and found the cutleries.

Natasha paused. A thought entered her mind.

She slowly got one of the smaller cutting knives and held it in her hand. _This might be a bad idea. _She thought about all the violence that had happened in the past days. If anything would happen to her again, she wouldn't feel as helpless. She hid it in her pants.

She actually took a butter knife now and started smearing the first slice with peanut spread.

"What are you doing?"

His voice made her flinch. She turned around, he was standing in the door frame to the kitchen, watching her with a blank expression, his eyes still red from his nap.

_Had he seen it? _She turned back to the counter.

"I'm making something to eat." She hoped she didn't sound as nervous as she was.

He walked over to the counter that still had his heavy vest on it. He slowly started putting it back on,

"Don't you get tired of that thing?" The question had blurted out of her.

"No." He was pulling a buckle tight.

"It looks pretty heavy." She felt chatty, maybe in order to hide her nervousness.

"I can handle." He pulled another strap tight. "Can you make me one of those?" He was eyeing her peanut butter sandwich.

_Do I look like your house maid? _She swallowed her sarcasm.

"Yeah…" She got two more slices of bread out and started spreading butter on it.

He had finished with his vest and stepped right next to her, leaning casually on the counter. She could feel him watching her, heard his even breath. She felt a tension creep into her and between them.

"If I search you right now, what will I find?" His voice calm.

_Shit. _She froze.

She would have a chance to fight him right now, this second, if she didn't hesitate. She just had to pull out the knife in a quick motion. A flashback of their night in the cabin entered her brain.

The moment had passed.

Instead, he stepped right in front of her, turning her slowly to face him.

She didn't resist him and looked up to his face. He was so tall close up, towering almost a foot over her. Their eyes met, there was a knowing smile on his face.

She stared back defiantly. He put a hand flatly on her chest, between her breasts. Natasha tried not to flinch. He slowly ran it down on her, over her shirt. He reached her jeans and lifted her shirt with one hand, pushing his fingers down her waistband. He ran his hand along her skin toward her back, stepping even closer to reach behind her. He was looking at her the entire time with a half smile. _The last time he was this close, he had his lips on mine_.

She didn't move the entire time. His hand found the knife and he pulled it out of her pants.

He set the dull point of the kitchen knife on her chest.

"Still trying to fight back?" His eyes were unreadable. Natasha was holding her breath. He threw the knife on the floor, it clattered away.

He turned away from her and walked out of the kitchen.

She slowly exhaled, her hands were trembling. _Damn him_. She grabbed her sandwich and went outside on the porch and sat into one of the rocking chairs. Her stomach too fluttery to eat it right away.

000

The early afternoon turned to evening, she had been sitting out there alone for a long time. She had gone in for water and a random book, and to check the file status, only to come right back out. Some distance between them was good right now. He had not said or done anything after he had found the knife on her.

She couldn't make her mind up about him, he had sometimes shown an almost caring side to her, but there was always an underlying layer of threat. He simply made her nervous. Despite their moments she wasn't sure what Barnes would do to her in the end.

She thought it was peculiar that she kept calling him James, or Barnes. But not Bucky. Even though Steve insisted on calling him that. She felt like that was a name between him and Steve. She knew, he wasn't the Bucky from Steve's childhood anymore. There was no point in calling him that, in her opinion.

She heard his footsteps approaching the front door, it clicked open and he walked out without haste, taking seat in a chair next to her. She kept staring out into the orange glowing field in front of her.

They sat in silence for a while. Eventually he leaned forward, he was also looking out into the field.

"Do you remember when I showed you how to use knives, and how to hold them correctly?" His voice quiet.

She didn't respond.

"I taught you where to hide it on your body. Why would you think I wouldn't notice?" He asked her softly.

Her mind unwillingly flashed back to that memory, she knew what had happened on that night of that mission. He did too.

She turned to him. "I'm used to carrying something for self protection." She paused. "You should be able to understand that."

He looked at her almost apologetically. "I can't let you have any for the time being."

"Are you scared of me having a knife?" She pursed her lips and looked at him.

He smiled back at her, genuinely. _Of course he's not._

"I used to have a name for you." He said instead. "My little widow." She shot him an angry glance.

"Don't call me that." She said immediately. It made her feel like a weak girl.

"You were a good student." He continued. "The best. Our missions together are some of the ones that stand out the most."

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows.

"I would rather not talk about it. Ok?"

He fell silent.

000

His talking had reminded her of her years under him. They had trained together, fought and killed together. And slept together. The thought was making her legs weak.

She felt a tension creep between him and her, but a different kind. It had gotten dark and the air felt charged. She could sense him watching her.

She had to remove herself, she quietly started collecting her water bottle and book and got up and walked past his dark shape back inside. It was shrouded in black shadows. She put her water and book on the kitchen counter, when he entered behind her, she didn't turn around. Something was happening.

She tensed and her heart hitched into her throat.

He was close behind her, she could sense his massive figure towering over her. She felt his hands softly on her waist, first his fingertips, then his whole hands, holding her firmly, digging into her skin. He put his face into her red hair, breathing deeply. Natasha felt his breath on her, it was driving her crazy being so close to him. She leaned backwards, into him, as his hands pulled on her shirt.

"Natasha…" His voice was a low rumble, she could feel it in her.

Her heart was racing and she closed her eyes, butterflies erupting in her stomach, feeling his hands on her stomach. He slowly turned her to face him. She opened her eyes to look up to him, his dark hair hanging into his face, she could faintly see his eyes, glowing. He raised his right hand from her waist to her neck, his fingers digging into her hair, his thumb guiding her face to him. She felt her stomach sinking and leaned her head to the side. He lowered his face to hers, she put a hand on his armored vest, pulling him even closer. His scent was overwhelming her.

She felt his stubble and then his lips on her, pressing on her hard. She opened her mouth slightly and their tongues met, wet and heavy, making him groan. He was kissing her deep and slow, taking his time. His hand was not leaving her hair, holding her in place. _It is different from last time, slower._ He was pressing her into the counter, devouring her mouth. His body heat was enveloping her, she couldn't form a thought, she only reacted.

Barnes put both his hands on her hips and lifted her up, sitting her on the counter without breaking their kiss. He pushed her legs apart and forced himself between them, pressing his hips into hers. She felt his hands heavy on her, gripping her thigh, she moaned and arched into him. He leaned her back, she felt his body weight pushing her down and holding her there.

_He is your captor._

She suddenly couldn't breath, feeling claustrophobic, she pulled back slightly. The Red Room had invaded her mind. He noticed that she had stiffened. He withdrew his lips and stared into her eyes.

_He has abused you._

He slowly leaned up again, she with him. His hands laying on her thighs, his fingertips stroking her softly.

She averted her eyes and entangled from him, she needed room to breath. He stepped back and let her slide of the counter. She walked past him into the dark living room and grabbed an old, worn quilt from one of the chairs and sat into one corner of the couch.

She heard him sit down into one of the chairs on the other end and putting his legs on the table, neither said anything. She tried to push the memories of the Red Room away, forcing her mind to go blank. Exhausted, she eventually fell into a deep sleep.


	14. Under The Surface

She drifted out of her sleep and lazily opened her eyes, blinking a few times to get the grey shapes in the living room to focus. She was lying cocooned in her blanket on the couch, having her knees drawn up to her chest. Weak morning light was filtering in through the blinds. Her head felt thick and cloudy and she just wanted to close her eyes again, blending out every emotion that came to her.

But, uninvitedly, the memory of their kiss from the previous night came crashing into her mind, immediately followed by how it had ended. Natasha groaned and pulled the musty quilt deeper over her head, burying herself in the old, worn fabric, trying to forget that this ever happened.

_Why did I even go along with this? _

She knew exactly why, if she looked deep down into herself. He held a strange attraction over her, something she had not experienced with any other man before. Being around him up close made her dizzy, and the tension between them had been building and building ever since their night in the cabin, it felt impossible to escape from.

Now that Barnes knew about their shared past, he was not letting up.

And she could not resist his pull in those weak moments, despite knowing better, even after the violence and threats on her life. She sensed it overwhelmingly in him as well, his want and need for her.

She buried her face into the worn out, dusty cushion of the couch. Those feelings were ridiculous and weak, not based on reality. Reality looked a whole lot different, and her freezing up under him was a testament to that. She couldn't trust him. He had kidnapped her by gunpoint, held a knife on her throat. Had threatened her over and over. He had an intention with everything he was doing and was manipulating her for his own needs. Why else was he always making her so purposely nervous all the time? She couldn't shake the image of him from the Red Room. She didn't want to face him after last night. He was a reminder of an old part of her, that she wanted to keep stowed away and hidden to not ever see the light again.

Taking a deep breath, she forced those thoughts out of her mind, letting it go blank. She lied still and just listened. There was a radio softly playing from the kitchen across the hall, she could faintly make out a classic rock song, and in the distance, across the house, a shower was running. She raised her head slightly. Another smell was hitting her nose. Aside from the stale smell of the old couch and blanket, she could make out freshly brewed coffee. It smelled heavenly to her.

She slowly threw off the quilt and raised herself into a sitting position, the bruise on her stomach pulling painfully. The thought of leaving the couch made her nervous with dread, not wanting to run into him, but she forced herself up anyway. She had slept with her clothes on again, for how many nights in a row now? Natasha straightened them, flattening the wrinkles, pulled her shirt down and rearranged her hoodie. She walked over to the kitchen, listening intently to the running shower. The laptops were both on, sitting on the counter, the file still not cracked. She decided to worry about that later.

Her eyes wandered to the other end of the counter. She saw the source of the smell. There was a dripping coffee machine, filled almost to the brim with her favorite morning drink. He must have set this up for her, since he didn't seem to drink any himself. There were leftover coffee powder crumbles everywhere on the counter. He had somehow clumsily figured out how to use the machine and got it to work. And it smelled too good to resist. She rummaged through the cabinets for a cup, then poured herself one.

The first sip was very dark and bitter, she almost choked. She licked her lips. He had used way too much powder.

"How did it turn out?" His voice behind her, she flinched and almost dropped her mug.

_Why does he always fucking sneak up on me?_ She was immediately irritated, their nightly encounter forgotten. She turned to him in a snap, the cup in her hand.

He was leaning in the doorframe, clothed, but his hair still wet from the shower and was looking at her expectantly, with a big grin on his face. She couldn't stay angry.

"It's very strong. And I mean, _very_." She said, her voice husky from just waking up. "You don't have to fill the filter up completely." His face fell slightly, pressing his lips together.

"But it's still very good. Thanks." She continued, trying not to be ungrateful.

That seemed to be good enough for him, he pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. It was already full with random food items, that he had gotten together before his shower. He had pulled out whatever he could find in the fridge, it included bread, peanut butter, a hard piece of salami, slices of cheese and some boiled eggs among other things.

She looked at him sitting at the table. An image entered her mind of him pushing her down on the counter, his lips on her. She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of it.

He didn't look bothered at all about last night, and was concentrating on his breakfast, tapping an egg on the table, to get it to crack. His long hair was dripping water on his shoulder and chest. It always looked unkempt and messy, he had brushed some of it behind his ear. She could smell his soapy scent wafting over to her. His stubbles were growing longer too, she noticed.

She hoped he wouldn't start asking her questions, when he spoke up.

"Coffee has never been my thing, even though everyone drank it back then. I remember it made me jittery, that wasn't a good idea when you have to concentrate on your job." He explained to her. "Life on base near enemy lines already had you on the edge of your nerves. Most of the time, anyway." He continued while starting to peel the hard boiled egg,

That was Bucky Barnes speaking right there, no doubt in Natasha's mind.

"The guys couldn't understand why I didn't like it. Coffee and cigarettes were a huge deal during the war. I even used to smoke for a while, back when it was still allowed everywhere. That seems to have changed." He was rambling, while picking the shell off his egg, his pale eyes fully concentrated on his food.

Natasha just listened, leaning on the counter, taking little sips of coffee.

"I have new memories every day now, random things. There is a random day from the frontline that's really clear. We had one of the big Pershings - that's a tank - get stuck in a trench in a wood near Albstadt. It took all day to get it out, everyone was dead-tired and dirty by the end. They cooked us a special dinner that night, it made up for it." He smiled and shrugged. Then paused for a while. She didn't want to interrupt his train of thought. She was fascinated at how much he was able to remember now and at what speed he was unlocking it.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to judge time correctly. The gaps make it difficult. Some things seem like they happened last week, when it's obvious they didn't." He was trailing off.

Natasha sighed finally and walked up to the table, pulling a chair out. She was relieved he wasn't bringing up the night before. She had to sit down slowly, feeling every single bruise on her body. She clenched her teeth. He noticed it.

"How is your stomach?" He was done peeling and started eating his egg.

"It's fine." She paused. "How is your own?"

"It's nothing, I told you." He said with a half smile.

"You seem to remember a lot from your life in the army." Natasha prodded him, she'd rather keep him talking about that part of his life, instead of changing topics. She started to make a peanut butter sandwich.

"Some things are clearer than others." He answered. "But so many other events have happened since then, it's hard to put it all in order." He put the rest of the egg into his mouth and chewed.

She thought about her own difficult path when she was in the hands of Russian scientists, under KGB influence.

"I know." She said quietly, biting into the bread.

Barnes laughed suddenly. "The guys actually had a running joke about me not liking coffee, and they tried to get me to drink it, which didn't happen." He paused. "They could make fun of me all they want, but there was something, that none of them could beat me at." He said lightly.

"I was the best at shooting practice. I beat every one of them, at any distance, every time. I excelled on the sniper rifle." He smiled at Natasha. "But you know that." He started peeling a second egg.

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows. He was right though, she knew that he was an excellent marksman, especially with rifles.

"There wasn't a whole lot else to do when you are stationed." He continued. "Just practice, eat, sleep. The one thing I liked about base though, were the nurses." He smiled. "We didn't get to see a whole lot of girls otherwise."

"You were quite the flirt, huh?" She asked him, raising her eyebrows.

"Yep. I got along well with them. Part of the reason I did those first aid courses." She saw the wheels in him turning, conjuring up these moments.

"But did you know that I had a girl at home? She said she would wait for me, saying she always loved my army uniform." He said with a grin. "She was a good girl, I might have married her." He paused, his smile vanished. His eyes focussed on a spot behind her, a shadow creeping into them.

"I cannot remember her face anymore. Not that it matters. We got deployed to Germany during the war, and I never saw her again." He looked down on his hands, getting quiet.

Natasha swallowed, setting her sandwich down.

"All I remember after that is pain. For the longest time." He looked up to her, his eyes dark. "My memories are very hazy for the following years." She looked into his now turbulent eyes. They were full of emotion, she could see the pain he had been through.

"I'm sorry." Natasha whispered, she had a clump in her throat.

He looked at her for a moment longer, then dropped his eyes back down at the egg in his hands, peeling the last bit of it delicately. She watched both of his hands work meticulously, his bionic one moving as if it was flesh and bones.

"I will kill every single one of them." He continued calmly, his voice low, she could sense the pain and rage underneath it.

Natasha didn't know what to say, she averted her eyes. _Who does he mean?_ She was staring at the dining table, following the wood grain pattern on the boards, imagining him in a lab, being tortured over and over again.

Yes, she could understand his fury.

It was this rage that she was so scared of. It was just under his surface, boiling in him, despite his casual demeanor. She knew it could go off at any moment and there was no telling what he was able to do to others, and her, for that matter. He wanted his file, that was the main reason she was here, which she still hadn't been able to open. Was she on his kill list too?

Her nerves were going through with her, her mouth went dry and she looked him square in the eye.

He paused with his food, sensing her urgency and distress. He looked up at her.

"Are you going to kill me, too?" She asked at once, without thinking it over.

His eyes were unreadable under thick strands of hair, they had captured her, made her unable to move or breath. She got lost in them the longer she stared. Then something shifted in them.

"No."

She exhaled. She had somehow guessed or hoped for this answer, but needed it confirmed. Some of the stress of the past days fell off of her. How had they come to this point, ever since he broke into her cabin?

He got up and started putting the food up. "Are you done eating?" He asked her, his face was neutral again.

"Yeah.."

She helped him put the rest up, then rummaged through her backpack and went to the bathroom.

000

She stood over the sink, the cold water clearing her head. For the first time she wondered what Steve would think of her now, or the rest of SHIELD for that matter. If their intimate moments somehow became public, what would they say? They would label her as a SHIELD agent with Stockholm syndrome and post-traumatic-stress-disorder.

Did she really care what anyone thought of her? _No, not really_. They already talked about her enough, everyone knew of her shady past. That's why she preferred to do things on her own, she didn't need people judging her constantly.

She had brought her toothbrush in and put up her messy hair into a ponytail, then started brushing her teeth. She curiously pulled up her shirt. The punch from yesterday had turned into a violet spot on her side. _Just one more to add to the collection. _She still had scab marks from where Barnes had cut into her throat.

_How truthful was he really?_

She spat into the sink and washed out her mouth, then went back to the kitchen to pour another extra strong coffee. She would have the jitters later. Barnes was trying his relatively new computer knowledge on her laptop again, fully engrossed in the files and folders on the screen. She went to the living room and turned on the tv.

The channels zapped by one by one, without registering what she was watching. Thoughts were whirling in her head. He hadn't asked her about last night yet, the thought alone making her cringe again. She didn't want to explain to him what had happened, when she had frozen.

Tired of the stuffy and stale living room, she walked past Barnes, without a word, outside the front door and stood on the porch. It was mid morning now, the air felt clean and good. She started walking in circles around the house. Was he even watching her? He had found the knife on her yesterday but just angrily thrown it away. Maybe he had stopped his constant surveillance on her, because she was less likely to run away. _Why am I not running? _She couldn't exactly answer that question herself, but he would be after her if she did, there was no doubt.

A helicopter flew very high over her, she stopped and put her hands over her eyes to look at it, she thought about waving. It was going full speed, not slowing down. _Nevermind then._

Was SHIELD still looking for her? She wasn't sure how they could possibly find her though, this house here was a rather good hideout. She was more worried about Hydra somehow getting involved. Hydras structure and organization had taken a beating, but it wasn't dead yet, just laying low, hiding.

She started getting jittery and stressed out, which was partly the coffee. But also partly because she hadn't worked out in a while. That was something she did frequently in her regular life, it took a lot of stress off of her shoulders. She looked around on the farm, there wasn't anything that would be very helpful as workout equipment.

She took off her hoodie and started running, it wasn't ideal with her hiking boots and jeans on, but it had to do. After the first few laps around the house and up and down the driveway, she felt much better already.

She made a game out of it and ran faster and slower laps, sometimes along the field, ignoring her growing blisters. On one lap, she scared a deer out of its hiding place in the corn crops and it startled her in return.

She must have run for an hour or more, before walking back up the porch, breathing hard. Barnes was sitting on the top step, watching, squinting into the sun. Natasha thought he looked strangely out of place, like he had stepped out of a movie, or was part of a SWAT team, wearing his dark combat uniform and gun on his belt. Sweat was pouring out of her, her clothes clinging wet on her body. They would need another wash and she needed a shower badly.

She sat down next to him, it felt natural, right at that moment.

"Had a good workout?" He asked.

"Well, my legs hurt and my toes are probably bloody. So, I guess it was good." She was panting and wiped sweat from her face with a corner of her shirt. He looked at her, half smiling but didn't say anything.

"I usually run a lot longer and and then focus on strength exercises." She continued. "But my legs are already feeling weaker from skipping training." They had been feeling wobbly under her, she had stumbled a couple times on her run. Her shirt was feeling completely drenched on her skin and she couldn't wait to get it off.

"I wouldn't say that. You still kick pretty hard." He answered with a grin.

She furrowed her eyebrows. Was he referring to his bloody nose from three days ago?

"Yeah. Maybe." She looked out the field a while longer. "I'm going to take a shower now."

She meant to get up, when he leaned over to her, putting one hand on her leg. It irritated her immediately.

"Don't." She said harshly and pushed him back, wrestling free of his hand as she got up.

She walked angrily into the house.

000

It was quiet inside, but she heard the tv running in the living room. She walked straight down the hall and into the little laundry room, stopping in front of the washing machine. The jeans came off first, slowly peeling off her sweaty legs.

She flung them into the machine. She pulled her shirt over her head, glad to get rid of it, and put it in as well when she suddenly felt goose bumps all over on her arms.

_Fucking Bastard._

She whirled around. He was leaning in the door frame, watching her, expressionlessly. As if she wasn't standing almost naked in front of him. She immediately saw red, wanting to throw a punch at him.

"Are you enjoying the show?" She snapped, outraged at his complete disregard for her privacy.

"Nothing I haven't seen already." He answered calmly, not bothered by her anger.

"Oh, spare me." She said angrily and tried to push past him, putting a hand on his chest to push him out of the way. He wasn't budging.

Instead, he took her arm that was pushing him and held it tight, she tried to pull away, he wasn't letting her go. Natasha tensed to kick him in the groin, if needed.

"Natasha." His voice rumbled softly, trying to get her attention.

She looked up at him, their eyes met. They were looking at her mildly, but unreadable. She sensed that he wanted something from her, not anything physical though. His expression changed to a puzzled look, as if something was concerning him.

"What is it, that keeps bothering you about us?" He asked her.

Her mouth dropped open and she looked at him incredulously.

_Did he really just ask that? _

She was downright too shocked at the obliviousness of his question to be angry.

"I.. I don't even know where to begin." She stammered. "Maybe because you are forcefully keeping me here with you? Or your threats to kill me, and holding knives on me and .. and your advancements on me. Maybe those things?" Her sarcasm was in full swing.

He furrowed his brows and was silent. He had meant something else.

"What bothered you.. last night?"

She swallowed, _of course he was going to ask about it_. She knew he just couldn't have left it alone and he was blunt as always. She had to look away, she felt her face getting hot. Not just embarrassment, but other, bad memories.

"Are you seriously asking this?" She asked angrily, looking down straight into his chest.

"Yes, I want to know."

"How can you _not_ fucking know?" His pretended innocence was infuriating her.

She was back in Saint Petersburg, in a small dark room with him after her mission. She had been so young and naive. He had thrown himself on her. She could feel him all over her again, taking her.

"Tell me."

"I'll tell you." She spat. "You and your fucking Red Room can go to hell." It burst out of her. "I spent years being abused and manipulated by you and I'm fucking done with it." She shot him a deadly glance. Her body was burning with anger.

He looked thoroughly confused now.

"Manipulated-?" He started.

"Don't you fucking _dare_ play dumb." She spat, his pretended confusion was making her so angry, she felt tears welling in her eyes.

"I never did-" He started but she interrupted him again.

"Oh yes, you did and you damn well know it!" Her eyes shot back at him, they were swimming with tears.

He looked at her incredulously.

"Take your hands off me." She tried to take a step back and he let her arm go. He looked at her, his eyes intensely serious, not really understanding what she was saying.

"Natasha. I never manipulated you into doing anything you didn't want to." He was dead serious.

She gave a short, empty laugh. _Bullshit_.

"Think back about the time we spent together." He continued.

Images of the training cells came to her mind. He was sending her to the floor over and over, covering her with bruises. He made her get up again and again, relentlessly.

"You nearly killed me during training, most of our trainings." She shot back, she couldn't hold back her tears, they started to stream down.

He cocked his head and took a deep breath, as if trying to desperately explain something to her.

"Yes. I was a hard teacher. But after that we were equals, for many years. In the missions, that I remember, we traveled the country together and we worked together perfectly. You enjoyed my company. Don't you remember that?" He was searching her eyes for any sign of recognition.

A huge clump had formed in her chest, making it feel numb. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she tried to process what he was saying. A crushing realization dawned on her. For once, he seemed to remember a whole lot more than she did. Her eyes went wide. How many years of her life were actually missing? She felt like she couldn't breath, her chest was about to explode.

All she ever could remember was pain, she hadn't been aware of any good parts.

_He's making this stuff up_. He was lying to her, that was the only explanation.

"Let me out of here." She said between her teeth and pushed past him. He stepped aside this time.

000

She had gone straight to the bathroom and slammed the door shut and took a shower to brood by herself. It wasn't until much later, that she actually washed and then dried her clothes, so she could finally put them back on. Only then did she wander into the living room and crashed on the couch. She didn't say a word to him and just pretended to watch tv.

He kept his distance to her, giving her time to think. He walked by her once and handed her a plate of food, which she accepted without looking at him. When he came back a second time with a water bottle, her hand shot out and grabbed his arm. She turned to him.

"Tell me about one of our missions."

* * *

**Here's the follow up. I love everyone's reaction and critiques so far. I'm getting a lot of requests for the previous original chapter, maybe I'll post it once this story is done. But I want to fully concentrate on this storyline first.**


	15. Revelations

"We were following a target from Moscow all the way down to Voronezh. We kept our distance, before we were able to figure out where he was heading. He had stopped in a small town on the way, to stay the night, and you tapped him easily. You overheard him talking approximately where he was going to meet his contact in the city - which was careless on his part. That contact was our second target, and the more dangerous one. A highly trained undercover CIA agent, posing as a russian traveling business man.

We took notes on where the first target was staying in Voronezh, just observing from afar, while he was getting settled in the city. We blended in perfectly, he never saw us or suspected a thing.

You always wore a silk scarf over your head, covering your hair as much as possible. It was longer back then.

The first target posed no problem, he was oblivious and made mistakes. We had many opportunities to kill him, but had to wait for him to meet his contact.

We followed him on the third night, he walked through the city in huge circles, as if that would somehow help him with not being trailed. He met the contact in a parking lot near the Detskaya Hospital, in the northern part. They exchanged their intel and parted quickly, you stayed with him, while I followed the new target. He was a lot more careful, but I tracked him down to his residence.

We met back up again that night, in our own rented room, planning to make our move the next day."

Barnes stopped to see her reaction. He was sitting across in one corner of the couch, she on the other end, just an arms length away. They were illuminated only by the flickering, blue light coming from the tv. Night had fallen outside and neither had moved since the sun had gone down.

Natasha was leaning into the cushion of the armrest, with her knees drawn up to her chest, listening intently. She noticed that he obviously liked talking about their shared past, just by the vivid way he was describing these events. His bionic arm was lying on the back cushion, pointing in her direction. Her eyes sometimes wandered to it.

"Do you remember any of that?" He asked her, raising his eyebrows.

Natasha shook her head. _How does he possibly recall that much?_

She was fascinated by the amount of details he could remember. But nothing he was saying rang a bell with her, and that fact made her feel oddly empty. She could remember other kill missions from her past, but not any that involved him in this matter, except the Saint Petersburg one.

Despite having prompted him to share this story, the casual nature of taking out targets had made her feel queasy inside.

She got a different feeling from Barnes. He was embracing his role as the Winter Soldier. He took pride in how effective he had been at hunting down Hydra's enemies for a living.

"We had to act fast after that." He continued. "The first target was taken out with ease. He was staying in a hotel and you figured out quickly which room it was, after talking to the receptionist. We both paid him a visit that night. He held no additional information, even after we encouraged him to talk a bit. I killed him quickly, without disturbing the other guests.

The second target was holed up in a private, gated house. We got in, but he was better prepared. He had heard us enter. He shot and almost hit you, but he didn't live long after that, I made sure of that."

His mouth curved into half a smile.

Natasha furrowed her brows, he almost sounded protective of her.

"After both targets were dead, we spent one more night in the city, before you headed back to base alone. I had a solo assignment and was going to travel into a different direction. I took you to one of the little parks, near the river, and we just walked for a long time. Until you pulled me back to our room. You made me regret very much that I had to leave you the next day." He laughed, then half smiled at Natasha from under his strands of hair. He had obviously liked that part.

Natasha was listening silently. Hearing him talk about her that way, made her almost blush like a little girl and she hoped he wouldn't see it with most of the lights off. It was a strange feeling, that he knew about something as intimate as that, while she still couldn't remember any details.

A tiny voice in her head was wondering how she had acted with him in bed on those later missions. Natasha would describe herself as stubborn, asserting and rational-thinking. And she was able to control others, especially men, with ease. Never with him though, she was almost sure of it. He might let her believe that she held some sort of power over him, when in fact, he was in charge the entire time. It reminded her of their two previous kisses. The way he had yanked her hair, to open her mouth for him, and pushed her against the door. Forcing her legs apart, while grabbing her hips roughly. It gave her a tingling sensation in her stomach.

He was looking at her with his pale eyes, trying to measure her reaction to his revelation.

Maybe they had been a great couple, and all of this was true. The mission he was describing did sound like something she would have done back then, violence and all. She wasn't getting the feeling that he was lying. Hydra been in full control over her back then, in combination with the KGB. She had been remorseless, and the cruel details she _did_ remember from other days, were scarred in her brain. Not a side she liked on herself.

Unlike him. He enjoyed it a bit too much. Or, maybe _enjoy_ is the wrong word, she thought. It had been his _mission_, it had basically been his whole reason to exist so far.

"I'm afraid, I can't remember any of that. You are unlocking these memories at high speed. I can't even follow." She said finally, a small frown on her face. "And I don't know, if I want to." She added quietly.

He shrugged. "It all started happening with you. In the few days we have been together."

She mustered him. He was leaning casually in his corner, full of calm confidence and a sense of authority, that never really went away. The more he talked about that part of his past, the more he looked like the Winter Soldier again, that she had been afraid of, for such a long time. She simply couldn't shake that image from her head.

She had told Steve once, that the Winter Soldier was one of the most dangerous men she had ever faced. And she still believed that. She wondered if he would ever be able to revert back into a normal human being. He sometimes showed signs that he might. But his ongoing absence of guilt and most compassion indicated that he had a long path ahead.

This side of him still made her nervous, whenever it came forward.

He was looking at her, his face concentrated, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"You, out of all people, make me remember so easily. It's like looking straight into my past." He paused. "I may not let go of you that easily." He said with a grin, but his eyes stayed serious.

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows. This was not what she was hoping to hear.

"I can tell you about another mission if you want, or get more detailed." Barnes shifted his head, his hair falling almost to his shoulders, it was so long. His armor, that he barely ever took off, shifted with him, scraping quietly. He savored knowing more than her for once.

"You can tell me another time." She answered him evasively, one was enough for now.

"Do you want to know more about what happened between us? There are a few things that I could tell you." He said it lightheartedly, but she could hear the little taunt in it. He was enjoying to make her just slightly uncomfortable again.

"No, thats enough." She said quickly.

He nodded, sensing her discomfort about this topic. But didn't give up that quickly.

"Tell me. Did you like your time as an assassin?"

She looked at him slightly irritated. "No, and I have told you on a few occasions now. There is too much bad stuff involved. It's not something that I like to remember." She paused. "But it's obvious that you do."

He nodded slowly, agreeing with her. "Its a big part of me. Most of my memories are now revolving around the time I met you and was sent on missions more frequently. Despite the pain of this-" He held up his bionic arm -"I enjoyed some of the years that followed after. I was good at my job, and so were you."

Natasha pursed her lips. "It may be a big factor for you, but I can decide on my own, what I allow to be a part of me. I find it hard to believe that you see these as good memories. Hydra was in control of you the entire time, they put you through this all. I thought you hated them."

He grew serious. "Hydra will pay for it one way or another. But I made the best with what I had. You definitely were a part of that, it makes me who I am today. Same with you."

_Why did he keep hammering around on this?_

"I simply choose to be another person now." She snapped. "I have moved on from being a mindless killer." She had said it, before she could even think it over, the words just spilling out.

There was a flash in his eyes.

"Have you now?" He leaned forward, resting his arms on his massive thighs, the bionic one reflecting the light of the tv. He was looking at her with interest. "You murdered a whole lot of people in just the recent months. And that's just the ones that were in your file. Maybe you have killed even more without them writing it all down in their notes."

She gave him an exasperated look. "That was all Hydra! Every single one of them. That has been our main focus the past years, to eradicate them."

"What does it matter which organization they belong to? It's all the same." He interrupted her. "Hydra and SHIELD, different names but same goals."

"Oh believe me, there is a big difference." Natasha couldn't believe he was comparing the two.

He cocked his head, his eyes calm again. "Is there? Are you sure? They both seem to use and exploit their subjects for their own selfish, little schemes. How many missions have you been send on, where you didn't even know what or why it was for?" He raised his eyebrows at her, trying to make her understand his point of view.

She was stunned silent, looking at him with her mouth hanging open. "You cannot possibly be serious, Barnes. SHIELD doesn't brainwash people, for one."

"They use you just as much." He continued undisturbed. "They give orders and you follow them, without questioning."

"What the hell is your problem with SHIELD?" Natasha was simply angry now with all his accusations. "They haven't done anything to you, unlike Hydra."

He grew silent, curious about her reaction. He was weighing his answer.

"SHIELD is getting in my way." He said finally. "And I will not hold back on anyone that stands in my path." His voice sounding an edge darker.

"And what is your path?" She asked, now quiet herself.

He only smiled and leaned back again, denying her an answer.

She looked at him for a while longer, but felt that he was done talking.

She had to suppress a yawn. Natasha hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. Her legs felt heavy and tight from her run that morning. She wanted to stretch them out, to massage the knots in them, but Barnes was in the way. She didn't feel comfortable to just lie her feet into him like that. But he wasn't budging from his seat.

Instead, he laid back even further on the armrest and swung his legs up on the couch, placing them right next to her.

"What are you doing?" She asked immediately, shifting more into the sofa cushion, trying not to get his dirty boots to touch her.

"Going to sleep." He answered her neutrally, and slid down even more, getting comfortable.

She thought about getting up and going to the chair, but felt silly at the same time. _We have slept much closer than that already. _She sighed and followed his idea, sliding slowly down the couch until she was lying on it, her feet next to his chest.

He had his eyes already closed and was falling asleep fast. _Lucky him_, she thought. It usually took her a lot longer than that.

000

She woke up at once, startled, something had moved next to her. She felt around in the dark, purely relying on her hands, and touched fabric and a boot. It had only been Barnes' leg, she thought with relief. He was snoring evenly on the other end of the couch and had shifted around, bumping into her. She wondered what time it was. It still seemed like the middle of the night, judging from the complete darkness in the room. Weak light was shimmering in from the kitchen, but not enough to see much. She lied still and listened. Aside from Barnes' breathing, she could faintly make out crickets outside in the field. Not hearing the constant noise of traffic and city life was still strange to her, the silence was going on her nerves, instead of calming her.

Natasha was wide awake now. There was no chance in going back to sleep quickly, she realized with annoyance. She wished she could sleep as easily as he did. They were lying all twisted into each other. One of his heavy legs was partly lying on her, pinning her into the couch. But it felt warm on her, and, she had to admit, almost comforting.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth was completely dry. She hadn't been drinking much water all day, and that always gave her a headache. A dry cough was building in her throat, that she tried to suppress. She would need something to drink.

With a groan, she lifted herself from the warm and comfortable spot on the couch, pushing his leg slowly out of the way. She had slept all crooked with him being next to her, and her back was complaining and stinging. She climbed carefully over Barnes' legs, trying not to wake him up, and walked quietly to the kitchen. The bright screens of the laptops were guiding her way. It hurt her eyes to look at them directly in the darkness. She walked past them to the sink, turned on the oven range light to find a cup, and filled it with water.

Natasha drank half of it in a couple gulps and leaned on the counter, her vision slowly adjusting to the brightness of the computers. She was about to go back to the living room, when she looked at them one last time.

Natasha stopped at once, almost dropping the mug. She was in front of his laptop in two steps, her face inches from the screen. All color was fading from her face.

"No..."

An ice-cold stab of fear was ripping through her heart. Her stomach cramped into painful freezing knots.

"Oh god..."

His file..something was wrong with it.

She ripped his machine out of the outlet to put it on the dining table, her hands flying on the keyboard.

The file had somehow vanished, there was no trace of it, her hack was still open, but sitting idle. Sweat started to spread on her forehead.

"No no nonono.."

She looked at the backlogs to try to understand what was happening. It could barely tell her anything, it didn't make sense. She had never come across anything like this. Apparently the file had corrupted itself and somehow crumbled into nothing. _How is that even possible? _This was out of her realm of knowledge.

Her heart was beating in her throat and a sensation of dread and horror started to spread in her stomach. He had trusted her with his file. And she had destroyed it. What would he-

She heard him shuffle now in the living room, his footsteps coming up to the kitchen. Her eyes wide, listening, still trying to understand the log files.

_What do I say?_

He was almost in the door. _What the hell do I say? _She wiped her face with her hand.

"Why are you up?" His voice was cutting through the silence of the house. He stood in the dimly lit door frame, looking at her with red, tired looking eyes. They were shifting between her and his laptop.

"It's nothing." She said quickly. Probably too quick. "I was just thirsty."

She got up from the table, her chair making a loud scratching sound, put her mug in the sink and started to walk towards his direction, trying to shuffle him out. His body went rigid. He could sense something was wrong, saw through her fake composure.

She was about to squeeze past him, when he leaned his arm across the entryway, blocking her from leaving. His eyes suddenly much more awake, piercing her.

"One more time. Why are you up?" He asked her more pointed, looking down at her.

"Just checking on your file." She swallowed. He sensed her nervousness.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing."

"Well, let's see." He grabbed her arm and pulled her over to the table.

He didn't need her to explain anything, he could plainly see that it had stopped working. There were no lines of code rattling down, or pretty much anything loaded in the hacking programs. She could feel his grip on her arm tightening, it was hurting her now. He had frozen, trying to process what he was seeing. She tried to get his attention.

"James, something happened with the file." He would have to understand. "It must have corrupted itself, it's-"

"Where is it?" He interrupted her harshly, his eyes darting to her.

"It seems gone for now, but-." Her voice was quiet, he glowered at her.

"But it might be still in the system, I can try to recover it with the right-"

He whirled her around and slammed her into the kitchen wall next to the table. She hit her head hard, seeing stars for a few seconds.

"Wait-" In one blurry motion he had brought out his knife and was holding it on her throat. Natasha saw with horror, even in the half darkness of the kitchen, that his eyes had turned completely black.

"Did you delete it? Is that your payback?" He asked her quietly, his black eyes transfixing hers.

Natasha swallowed, the knife on her throat was slicing her skin.

"No. I didn't. I fucking swear, just listen!" She was wide-eyed in panic. This was a different person in front of her, the same one that almost killed her during the night in the cabin. He was completely losing himself.

She clawed at his chest, trying to shake him, as if that would somehow wake him up.

A sudden realization entered her mind. '_W.S_.' His file. There was a backup. She suddenly knew. How could she have been so blind? She had extracted it herself over a week ago from a Hydra terminal to bring it safely into the hands of SHIELD.

"James, there is a back-" He abruptly backed away from her, his hand still holding her arm, and threw her along onto the kitchen floor. She painfully skidded to a stop on her back.

He had not moved and was only staring at her, standing at a distance, his good hand still holding the knife, the bionic one opening and closing slowly, straining hard to not come after her. She had seen him do this before, he was trying to summon all his willpower to not kill her.

"Get out. **Now**." He roared. If she stayed here any longer, it would turn deadly, she was seeing it in his eyes, he was about to lose all control over himself.

He didn't have to tell her twice, she scrambled up on her legs and stumbled to the front door, out into the cool air of the night.

000

Adrenaline was pumping like battery acid through her veins. She could barely see anything as she ran down the porch, stumbling over a step, catching herself on the railing, then continued running, breathing hard. She was trying to listen if he was coming after her, but she could barely hear anything, her loud gasps for air were droning out all noises.

She was harshly knocked to the ground, someone was on top of her.

"What the hell-" Her nerves were going through with her.

She kicked out hard into whoever was kneeling halfway on her.

A voice she didn't recognize groaned. Another voice was saying something.

"Agent Romanoff, calm down." A hushed male voice.

"This is SHIELD, stay low. You are safe now." A different voice. She heard more talking quietly in the distance. Her eyes had slowly adjusted to the pale, moon-lit driveway, she was lying in. Two men were kneeling next to her. She looked around, suddenly noticing more agents. They had surrounded the house, weapons drawn.

"No! What the hell are you doing?" She grabbed the nearest agent by the collar, pulling herself up.

"Stay down agent. We are taking him out. You are not in danger anymore, just stay put." He was trying to hold her down, she was wrestling with him, when gunfire erupted in the house. She counted up to 10 different shots, and several men yelling.

Natasha staggered back on both feet, and started to walk back to the house, in complete shock. Someone was holding and pulling her back. The front door slammed open and an agent came out.

"We got him! But Lawson and Perry are down, we need the ambulance up here, now!" He yelled down at them.

Natasha's eyes went wide, she suddenly had a clump in her chest. She turned to the agent that was still pulling her back and got in his face.

"What the fuck is going on here?" She grabbed the front of his suit, shaking him. Her shock had turned into complete rage.

He had turned his attention back to her, trying to get ahold of her arms and to calm her down.

"Miss Romanoff, I'm Agent Baker, we were able to track you down, and just in the right moment too, it seems. We have been on your tracks for days, I apologize that it took so long." Baker was looking at her with sympathy. He had let go off her, and was pulling out his SHIELD ID card, flashing it to Natasha.

She looked at him in shock. Somehow she couldn't believe that this was really happening right now.

"Where.. why. What happened to Barnes?" She stammered. Her thoughts had immediately gone to him.

_They shot him. Dead._

"We took him out. I'm glad to see you alive Miss Romanoff, we all know the danger you have been in. We are arranging a safe transport for you back to D.C."

"You took him out? You killed him?" Her voice was trembling with rage.

Agent Baker sighed, not understanding why she was being difficult.

"No. We had strict orders to get him alive. He should be merely knocked out, we use a quite powerful sedative. Can you hang on for a moment? I need to get the vans and ambulance directed."

Natasha only nodded. He walked away from her, leaving her alone in this chaos. She saw several other agents flitting around her, going in and out of the house. She didn't recognize any of them, wondering what unit they all worked for.

She felt empty suddenly, not knowing what to do. Several black vans were pulling up into the driveway, as well as an ambulance. She wanted to go back into the house but was redirected into one of the vans instead. It was all a blur to her, she had stopped thinking. No feelings would come to her.

000

She sat into the middle row of one of the vans and clasped her hands together for what felt like a long time, while they arranged everything outside. Isn't this what she had hoped for the entire time, for SHIELD to find her? She wasn't sure anymore. It was as if an invisible hand was squeezing her throat shut slowly, she couldn't get air. She had to force herself to take some deep slow breaths.

She heard the other agents talking outside, getting everything ready to drive back to HQ. She never saw how they got Barnes out the house. A door opened and the driver entered, he turned to her.

"I'm glad you are alive and well, Miss Romanoff." He said with a little smile and some pity in his voice.

"Yeah.." She felt like kicking him in the face.

He turned back around. More doors opened and the van filled quickly. Baker came and sat in the seat next to her. The van slowly started rolling down the gravel road, in a line with several others, and the ambulance in the back.

They rode in silence for a while, Natasha was still trying to process what had happened. They had somehow found and captured Barnes. She wondered how that had been so easy for them. Maybe their fight over the file had distracted him, she wondered.

She saw Agent Baker turn to her.

"We had feared the worst, when it became clear that he had kidnapped you, before we could intercept him. I already called Director Hill to let her know that you are safe."

"Director Hill?" Natasha furrowed her brows.

"Deputy Director Hill is in charge of the Washington HQ for the time being. They will explain it all once we get there."

"I would like some answers now." She was angry, she knew she should be grateful, but something kept bothering her.

"What would you like to know?"

"What did you mean by _intercept_?"

Baker looked at her uncomfortably. "Well, we, ah, were expecting him to follow your tracks. But he, ah, found you in the safe house so quickly, that we hadn't been prepared." Baker was falling over his own words.

Natasha couldn't believe what she was hearing. How did they even know about the safe house? Had Nick sent her there on purpose to set up a trap for him? She was seething with rage. Someone would have _a lot_ of explaining to do.

"How did you find us out here?" She snapped.

She saw the driver go rigid for a second.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you exactly. There had been a tip, is all I know." Baker was scrambling.

Natasha had heard enough, she turned angrily towards her window and looked out. The first bits of daylight were coming over the horizon. She looked ahead, at the other black van. Was Barnes in there? She didn't know.

She had no idea what to feel about him. Had she stayed, he might have killed her over his file. Or would he? Would she see him again, now that SHIELD had him captured? But why would she even want to…

She noticed that she couldn't see the ambulance in the back anymore. The rural street was empty behind them. It was only this van and the one in front.

"... yes. Both of them. Understood." The driver was quietly talking into a phone, then hung up.

It all happened, before she had any time to react. She turned to Baker who was looking straight ahead, when his head was flung backward violently, a bullet entering his brain. A man in the front passenger seat had turned around to them, holding a gun in his hand. He turned to Natasha now and grinned.

Something was thrown over her head, she couldn't see or breath. She heard someone whisper in her ear, before darkness overtook her.

"Hail Hydra."

* * *

**Hey guys, I have to advance the plot a little bit, just bear with me. There's more Bucky x Natasha around the corner.**


	16. Escape

She felt the pain before she woke up. It was a constant blinding flash in her head, right behind her eyes, and every breath she was taking was hurting her entire throat. Her shoulders and arms felt stiff and sore, as if she hadn't moved them in a long time. Her face was lying on a cold and hard surface, her hair messily hanging into it. She tried to rub her eyes, but her hands wouldn't budge from behind her back. There was a soft clinking sound when she moved. _Handcuffs_.

Very gingerly, Natasha lifted her head up and slowly opened her eyes, sending painful spikes into them. Her throat was completely dry and she badly wanted to drink water. Her head had been laying on a table, she noticed. The rest of her body seemed to be seated in a chair. Her arms were drawn tight behind her and she kept trying to move her hands, despite not being able to.

_What was she doing here?_

Barnes. That was the first thing that came to her mind. The farm. SHIELD. But she had been rescued, or not?

_Hail Hydra._

She pressed her eyes shut tight. This couldn't be happening. She saw Agent Baker's head flung back in a gory explosion of blood and brain matter. The bullet coming from a gunman in the front seat. There had been Hydra in that van all along, she realized with a sinking feeling. She clenched her teeth together and slowly rose up to a sitting position, despite her body screaming to stop moving, and looked around.

The room was plain and strictly functional. The walls were all grey cement without features, looking old and crumbling in the cold, dim ceiling light. A closed door was straight in front of her. There was nothing else in it, aside from the table, chair and her. She looked behind herself, her neck protesting the twisting of its muscles. Her hands were shackled on a chain that connected into the cement floor, impossible to get out. She felt cold, despite wearing all her clothes. She looked down on herself, they hadn't removed anything from her.

She collected her thoughts. This was clearly a room for questioning, she realized with concern. Would they kill her quickly or draw it out? She tried to swallow a few times to get some moisture into her mouth, which helped a tiny bit. She tried to listen to any sounds coming from beyond the door, but there was not much. She heard the faint hum of a ventilation system, or some other big machine.

After what seemed like ten minutes, she made out muffled voices in the distance. They were approaching fast, she slammed her head back on the table, letting her body go limp. The door opened suddenly and several people stepped in. She counted three. They closed the door carefully, then one stepped up to the table.

"Agent Romanoff, it's a pleasure to meet you. You can stop pretending to be unconscious now." A male voice with a german accent, unfamiliar, his voice serious, business-like.

Natasha slowly rose back up, leaning back into her chair, mustering the Hydra agents that had entered. She pressed her lips together.

She was looking at a man that could have come straight from a business meeting. Clean haircut, trimmed beard, wearing a rather expensive suit, rimless reading glasses. It somehow reminded her of Alexander Pierce. _May he rot in hell._

The German was smiling thinly at her. Behind him, to his sides stood two uniformed Hydra agents, both with rifles in their hands, mustering her.

She cocked her head at them and put on a saccharine smile. "The pleasure is all mine. And you are…?"

The agent's smile spread a little and put his hands on the table, leaning over to her.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you. But, I have to say, I'm very excited to have such a high ranking SHIELD agent with us. It was honestly pure luck that you ended up here. But I can foresee us having an interesting time ahead. There are so many things that we would like to know from you."

Natasha smiled frostily.

000

Her lower lip had split, and was still bleeding a little bit. Her right eye was swollen, making it hard to see out of. Other, minor, scrapes were on her cheeks and forehead. They had mainly concentrated on simply beating and backhanding her in her face. Her left ankle was swollen badly, making her entire leg unusable. It could have been worse, she thought. And probably will be soon.

The first time one of them approached to hit her, she had flung her legs off the floor and landed a square kick into their adam's apple, crushing their windpipe. After that, they had been more careful and bound her legs as well, but not before one of them kicked her hard into her left foot.

They had questioned her for hours at a time. Beating or slamming her face on the table, if they didn't like her answers. She had clenched her teeth together and fed them one lie after the other about SHIELD. Some they even seemed to believe. They asked her about the new HQ, and the new commanding structure. The locations of other secret bases and the whereabouts of high ranking officers. She had either not said anything or given various false information. They knew that she couldn't be trusted, though.

She had been given water to drink, in order to not pass out from dehydration. Once she was led into a different cell by herself, where she could actually sleep on the cement floor, she had been too exhausted to make for an escape.

Then she was dragged back into that same room. She had lost track of time. Had she been there for 24 hours? 48? She wasn't sure, there were no windows whatsoever. The building appeared to be underground, and it was rather big, she could sense from all the hallways twisting and turning, when she was briefly dragged through it. She wondered if Barnes was in the same building, or kept somewhere else. Would they brainwash him again and revert him? The thought of that conjured up a fearful clump in her stomach

Her entire hope was on SHIELD. They must have been aware of what happened and started a search. They simply don't lose two vans just like that, and apparently there must have been real SHIELD agents in the others.

000

She was dozing by herself in the chair from exhaustion, when the door slammed open. The German and four of his agents came back in, a curious expression on his face. He sat down across from her, the agents moving in the corners of the room. She raised her head slightly at them.

"Miss Romanoff, or can I call you Natasha? We are trying something different today. I'm afraid it will hurt a lot more, but I would like for you to stop telling us lies." He explained to her. She was almost too tired to care.

One of the guards turned to him and was saying something quietly. She couldn't make it out.

Natasha's bloodshot eyes were darting between them.

"Before we start, I'm very curious about something." He leaned forward. "Like I had said, it was pure luck that you ended up here. You were just a part of our main recovery mission. Now, I would like to know why you were with the Winter Soldier." He drew his eyebrows together in a frown. "It is unusual that he would confide in anyone."

She was trying to listen to what he was saying, and coming up with a lie. "He didn't confide in me. He kidnapped and tried to kill me." _Let's try it from this angle, which is the truth, oddly enough._

"Even that is unusual. Why did he take you with him?"

"I would like to know as well, let me know when you find out." She paused. " Or you could, you know, ask him instead?" She squinted at him.

The German only looked at her over his glasses, his forehead furrowed.

"He's not been very responsive, but we don't need him to talk today. That will be all you." He turned around and waved at one of the guards, who immediately vanished through the door.

"We thought it would be appropriate to let him take this over." He grinned icily at her. "Once he's done in the lab."

It took a while and Natasha was about to doze off again, when she heard footsteps approaching the door, it swung open.

Barnes walked in, by himself. Natasha's heart hitched at seeing his familiar face, she almost called him by his name out loud. Then she immediately shrunk back. He had looked into her direction, but his face stayed dark and vacant. There had been no sign of recognition, as far as she could see. Even the other three Hydra agents were nervous in his presence, clasping their rifles a bit harder.

_They have brainwashed him. Everything is gone._

One of the agents bent his head down to the German again, talking quietly.

He suddenly stood up and clasped Barnes on the shoulder, fully confident.

"Alright, I have orders for you Soldier. Are you listening?"

Barnes stared at him darkly, then nodded slowly.

"Good, very good. Listen. Make this subject talk, do you understand?" The man reached into one of his pockets and got out a folding knife, handing it to Barnes.

Barnes held it in his hand for a moment, looking at it.

Natasha couldn't sit still anymore. "James." She leaned forward, pleading. "It's me, Natasha." She whispered, her voice cracking, drawing everyone's attention.

_Please, it has to be him._

Barnes looked up from the knife, then cocked his head at her. "I know."

He plunged it into the throat of the German, twisting it. The guy started screaming as blood erupted from his neck, flowing down his suit. Barnes had already pushed him into the agent behind him, knocking both of them over. The other two drew their rifles in surprise. But he was on the next one in the blink of an eye, breaking his neck in a violent motion, while ripping the rifle out of his dying hands, then shot the last one, before the agent even had the safety off. He gave a killing shot to the knocked down agent, the gunfire echoing loudly in the small room. It had all only taken seconds.

Natasha had ducked as far down as she could, watching him kill these four men in record time. Her ears were numb and ringing. Barnes immediately walked behind her, looked at her handcuffs and ripped the chain out of the ground, separating the cuffs with the bionic arm. He stepped around to face her, rifle in his hands, his eyes still dark.

She was incredibly glad to see him, despite how they had left off. She swallowed, looking up at him. Her arms and wrists were engulfed in pain from being finally able to move them, her left ankle sending flashes of pain up her leg. Her head was heavy and pounding. They looked at each other for a moment, something passing between them, her eyes red and teary.

Then he reached down for her right arm and put it around his shoulder, pulling her up.

"Let's go." He growled, his left bionic arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up, keeping the rifle in his right.

She grimaced in pain at every step, only being able to limp, and even that barely. She held onto his vest, trying not to fall. He dragged her out of the room, into a currently empty hallway.

"I can't walk. Not far." Her voice was breaking, she would only slow him down.

They heard voices ahead, approaching quickly. He dragged her around a corner and sat her down, out of line of fire. He kneeled in front of her, the rifle in his hands, finger next to the trigger. Natasha saw blood running down his metallic arm. It wasn't his.

"Wait here." He shot up again and vanished down the main hallway. There were yells, his automatic rifle went off in short bursts, along with single gun shots. The yelling stopped. Then started again, with more gunfire. Men were screaming, she heard several running, retreating. Then silence. A door was kicked open further down the hall and there were muffled automatic bursts. He was killing everything in sight, she thought with her heart hammering in her chest.

Natasha tried to keep listening, but her eyes were falling shut, having barely slept in over more than a day. She had to breathe through clenched teeth, trying to control the pain in her ankle. There hadn't been a noise in a while, and she opened her eyes again, peaking around the corner, but saw no sign of Barnes. Several bodies were laying on the floor, fresh blood running down the walls. She sat back in her spot, checking on her ankle.

She was about to painfully pull herself up on her good leg, when he was suddenly back kneeling in front of her, his eyes dark, but alive.

"I've been on this base before. There should be a target in one of the laboratories upstairs that I'm going to take out." His voice neutral. He tried getting up.

_A target? What the hell was he talking about._ They heard more yelling upstairs now, faint footsteps running above them.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him down. "We dont have time for this! Just get us out of here." Her eyes wide, exasperated.

He pried her arms off him. "Just wait here. It won't take long." He tried getting up once again.

She clawed at his vest with both hands now, pulling him back down. "Don't go. Wait." It would be too dangerous, she realized that at once. But he seemed to think he was invincible. Barnes kneeled back down in front of her, listening.

"Just get us out of here, please." She was pleading with him, desperate. "Don't go up there, I can't go on much longer." He looked at her, her face a mask of pure exhaustion. Bruised, bleeding and teary eyed.

He sighed. He got up this time, pulling her up with him, and started walking down the opposite way of the hallway. "Stay behind me." He growled. Natasha was just clinging onto him, barely holding herself up.

He led her through twisted hallways, once running across two guards, which he took out quickly. They got to a small set of stairs, leading upwards, and out of a door.

Daylight was blinding her. They had emerged somewhere rural, with trees in the distance, but high fences in between them and the woods. He sat her down next to the door they had come out of.

"I'm going to get a car. Stay here." He kneeled back down to her and pressed a Glock into her hand. She had no idea where he had gotten it. And he was gone again.

Natasha just leaned against the building and listened. There were footsteps coming up behind the door. She took aim with two shaky hands. The door opened and she shot the single guard coming out, aiming for more, but there were none.

She heard the car before she saw it, he was stepping on the gas and came to a screeching stop close to her position. Barnes smiled as he came to pick her up, seeing the dead guard. Then lifted her up over his shoulder and carried her to his car. The adrenaline, that had kept her going this far, was fading out of her system and her body and mind were simply shutting down. The last thing she remembered was looking up from the backseat, seeing the car in motion.

* * *

**Natasha just can't get a break. Thanks for all your comments! I'll have the next chapter up soon.**


	17. Love Is For Children

**I just resubmitted this chapter, I'm sorry it's a mess. But the previous one didn't sit right with me. Please re-read if you have already.  
**

**Reminder this story is rated M - Mature content ahead.**

* * *

She faintly remembered waking up a few times, twice in the car. He was forcing water down her throat, which half of it she threw up again. Then once more when she was hanging over his shoulder, he was carrying her, it had been nighttime. And then only darkness.

000

Natasha woke up somewhere soft and warm and comforting, feeling like she had slept for a long, long time. Her body was screaming at her to lie still, but her throat was parched and scratching. Despite the pain, she felt around with her hands, and froze. She was under a cover that she somehow recognized, the scent surrounding her smelling familiar. She lifted her heavy head of the pillow, blinking around in surprise in the dark room. There was a clock on the nightstand, showing 9:22 pm. She immediately recognized it.

"How.."

She was lying in her own bed, in her home in Washington. _How was this even remotely possible?_ Her head was spinning. She looked around in her bedroom. Natasha was alone, no sign of Barnes. He had somehow driven her all the way back to the city, and brought her to her own, private house, that she was renting. Was he still in here?

Her eyes went back to the nightstand, it had a water bottle on it, that she could make out in the dim darkness. She greedily opened it and gulped it down. The motion brought new flashes of pain, her lip was cracked and hurting, the bruises were pulsing warm on her face, but she ignored it. She slowly raised herself into a better sitting position, and took her legs out of the bed, sitting them carefully on the ground, the left one giving a jolt of pain. Looking down on herself, she was wearing only wearing underwear. He had removed everything else, while she had been unconscious. A small pang of embarrassment went through her stomach, that she quickly ignored.

Why had he brought her here and not a hospital?

Natasha had no idea if he was still in her house, and what he was going to do with her next. If he had really cared about her, he would have dropped her off at a hospital, she thought with a growing anger. Despite what he had done, she still couldn't trust him. She ripped open her nightstand and felt around in it. The Glock she kept in there was gone.

_Of course._

She got up on her weak legs, not putting too much weight onto the left one, but the pain was manageable. She hobbled over to her dresser and opened a couple drawers, getting out the first clothes she could feel. A tank top and a pair of her skinny, black running pants. She carefully pulled her legs through the pants, feeling much better with more clothes on. Then she opened the bottom drawer and felt all the way in the back corner, pulling out a second Glock.

He hadn't found that one.

It made her feel a bit safer about leaving the bedroom. The hallway was empty, except for some of her moving boxes, stacked on top of each other. She tried to listen to anything, but there was no sound coming from the rest of her home. She limped to her modern, but rarely used, kitchen, gun in hand. The air was stale in the house, from not having been here in over a week. There was no sign of Barnes either. She wasn't sure if she would shoot him, but she wanted him subdued if he came across her again. But it seemed like he had simply left her. Hunger pangs were hurting her stomach. She finally pinned the gun into the back of her pants and walked to one of her cabinets, pulled out some stale cookies, and sat down at the dining table.

She devoured them, one by one. It didn't matter what she was eating, she just needed something in her, and these stale cookies tasted like heaven at the moment. While she was chewing, she kept feeling the warm bruises on her face, despite wanting to rather ignore their existence.

The day or two in the Hydra base had been a blur mostly, sleep deprivation had made it hard for her to differentiate dream from reality. They had beaten her over and over, but she had luckily kept enough sense in here to not tell them any vital information. She wondered what they had done to Barnes. He had gotten her out of there, she knew that. But was he still the same?

She noticed that the cookie box was empty. Her lip was hurting now, from chewing so much, and she kept licking over the scab. With a sigh she got up again, she had to see for herself.

Natasha hobbled to the main bathroom, connected to the hall, turning on the light, and faced herself for the first time in the mirror.

"Wow.. god awful."

She told the face that was staring back. There were dark bruises on her right eye, lesser on the left, her lower lip had a dark scab on it, and several cuts and lighter bruises covered the sides of her cheeks and forehead. She turned on the faucet and washed it carefully, biting her teeth together, then stood still for a while, bent over the sink.

The past days were hard to put into words, but then again, she had been through worse in her past. She just wanted it to stop, needing a break. Barnes had gone from almost killing her, to pulling her out of a Hydra base, and now he was gone. She would have to contact SHIELD immediately. She needed a shower badly and smelling herself wasn't pleasant, but it had to wait. Natasha slouched out of the bathroom, back in the hallway. Something behind her on the left caught her attention, in the corner of her eye.

"You're up."

She stumbled over her own legs, whirling around, her right hand flew to the back of her pants, her finger wrapping around her Glock she had pinned on her back. She was looking straight into his rifle.

"I wouldn't pull that out, if I were you." Barnes was standing in her dark hallway, near the front door, as if he had just entered. He was illuminated from the kitchen light, shining dimly into their direction, reflecting the light on his gun, which was aimed at her. She simply stared, unbelieving, still impossible to process that he was in the privacy of her own home. But there he stood. He hadn't changed since their escape from the Hydra base. Still wearing his dark armored vest, the black cargo pants and his army boots. His hair, long and messy as always. He was holding the M4A1 with both hands, pointed at her.

"You are not as fast as you think." He continued casually, referring to her hand on the gun.

Natasha's mouth was still open in surprise. Why was he pointing the gun at her, was it just because she had one? _Would he really shoot me though?_ She didn't want to find out. Instead, she slowly brought her empty right hand to her front again, her palm forward, showing him that she wasn't holding anything, and slowly raised her left one as well. He watched her curiously, then looked around.

"Nice house. A bit empty though." His eyes gazed over her sparse hallway and living room in the back. "I need you to turn around or me now."

She furrowed her brows, but obeyed, slowly turning her back to him on one foot, her hands still raised. He stepped behind her, pulled the Glock out her pants, then patted her down quickly, not finding any other weapons.

He released the ammo clip of her gun and let it clatter on the floor.

"Feels familiar, doesn't it?" He said from behind her, she could hear him smiling.

It had reminded her of their first encounter as well, in the cabin, when he got rid of her Glocks. He had been more rough, though. It all felt like that happened an eternity ago.

She still couldn't believe he had brought her here. Into the home of a SHIELD agent, while most of SHIELD was after him.

"What are you still doing here?" She asked him, with concern in her voice. "SHIELD is looking for you."

He slowly turned her around to him.

"I needed to be back in Washington. And you shouldn't even be walking around yet." He said almost softly.

She looked at him, unbelieving, so many questions whirling in her head. "Why did we come here? How did you know how to get out of the base?" She asked him, confused.

"I've been on that base before and I remember it rather well. The rest was easy, they didn't pose a problem." He fell silent and his eyes wandered over the fading bruises of her black eyes, the cuts and scrapes, and the healing scab on her lower lip. He slowly rose his right hand to her face, inspecting it carefully.

"I killed everyone I could find. I could've erased the whole base." He continued quietly. She returned his gaze, suddenly a heavy feeling in her chest, not wanting to recall all of what happened. It seemed more like a blurry, bad dream to her.

"Did they.. do anything to you in there?" She had to know. Had they somehow been able to zap his brain again?

"No. They tried."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "How did you get out of it?"

"I'm good at pretending." He said with a grin and dropped his hand again. "Which they bought for a little bit. But I started by taking out everyone in the lab, when they insisted I sit in that machine." He paused. "Then I went looking for you."

Natasha wasn't sure what to say, thinking back about her torture, a weight was pressing down on her chest.

"Thanks." She said quietly. He had rescued her, before SHIELD was able to.

He only nodded.

There was a silence between them, Natasha lowered her eyes.

What was he still doing here exactly? What else does he possibly want from her. She guessed it was about the damn file. She simply didn't want to deal with it right now. But at the same time, she still felt a sting in her heart when she thought about what had happened. She had not meant for it to get deleted, since it was so important for him. But he didn't seem angry about it anymore. At least for the moment.

"Are you going to let me go?" She asked him quietly, not looking up, just wanting it to be over.

"No." He answered neutrally

"Why not?" She furrowed her eyebrows, growing irritated.

"Not yet, Natasha." He was looking at her mildly.

Her eyes flashed at him. "And what makes you think you can just do whatever the hell you want with me?"

His casualness about how he was treating her freedom, her life, was pissing her off now. She knew she should be grateful for her rescue, but he had brought her into this mess in the first place. She looked up at him angrily, putting a hand on his chest, as if she could push him out of her house, out of her life.

"Just leave me the hell alone already." She spat.

He wasn't budging under her push. "I told you, I'm not letting you get away that easily." He paused. "We are staying here for the night. But I have plans for you."

She gave a humorless laugh. "Plans." She drew out the word. "I'm not doing anything for you after all what happened. I'm fucking done."

He was watching her silently. "You still owe me something, I believe." His expression had grown serious.

She almost said something else, but bit her tongue. All she suddenly wanted, was to be away from him.

Her own smell hit her, still covered in whatever she went through in that base, making her sick. And she wanted it off. She turned away from him and hobbled back into the bathroom, holding herself up on the vanity. She heard him behind her and turned around. He was leaning in the doorframe.

"I'm going to take a shower now. Alone." She hissed.

He ignored her. "There is something else. Show me the stitches on your thigh."

Natasha looked at him puzzled, not moving.

"They probably need to be removed." He took a step forward and she budged away. But seeing how he wasn't going to let up, she carefully pulled down her pants on her right side, showing him the old wound. He was right, it did look like the skin was starting to grow around the thread.

"Take a shower. I'll remove them when you're done."

"I don't need-" She started angrily, but he interrupted her.

"Just be ready." He half smiled at her then turned around, without another word and walked out.

"Bastard." She mumbled it through her teeth.

She was seething. She hated when he took this tone with her, he was still ordering her around as if she was a little girl.

000

Natasha took her time in the shower. Her _own _shower, for once. It still felt a bit foreign to herself though. Over three weeks ago she had to hastily change addresses, due to her private information being released on the internet. A lot of her things were still sitting unpacked in boxes, cluttered throughout the main rooms. And even then, it wasn't a whole lot. She simply didn't own a lot of stuff, this being just one of her temporary residences.

Of course SHIELD had offered her an apartment in the Triskelion a long time ago, when it was still standing, as well as on a Helicarrier, but she had denied it. After that was destroyed, they had temporary safe apartments within the new HQ and offered her one. A lot of agents did take advantage of these and lived close by SHIELD. Natasha couldn't stand it. She absolutely needed some distance between her and her job, and some level of freedom. So she had quickly found a new house to rent, after her internet leak, even after Fury had told her how foolish and dangerous that was. It wasn't his decision to make, and it hadn't even been a question for Natasha.

She turned off the hot water and stepped out of the shower, rubbed herself dry and quickly put on her panties and tank top, not knowing when he was going to barge in here. She brushed her teeth, tried to tame her hair and rubbed a moisturizer on her body, making her feel so much better already. Then she inspected her old wound on her leg. He was right, the thread had to come out. She started pulling on it, when the door opened.

"Ready?" He looked at her expectantly. She only rolled her eyes.

Barnes took one of her towels, double folded it and put it on an empty part of her vanity, already taking charge of her again. Then stepped out of her way, so she could sit on it. She slowly helped herself up on the countertop, trying not to bump her left foot too much.

He noticed. "How is it?" Looking at her blue and purple ankle.

"It's fine." She answered angrily and adjusted herself on the towel. Taking a deep breath, she looked at him, standing in front of her. He had raised his eyebrows at her, a curious expression on his face.

"I don't think it's broken. And the swelling is already going back." She added quietly.

He paused a moment longer, then stepped to the medicine cabinet near the mirror and started searching through it.

"You have barely anything in here." He rumbled, pulling out a small scissors and tweezers out of one of the compartments.

"I don't need much." She retorted. She had been raised with nothing and spent many years with nothing in her name. _Stuff_ was only holding her back.

He stepped beside her, putting his bionic hand on her thigh, carefully pulling on the skin around the wound. Natasha was craning her neck, trying to see what he was doing. She felt his fingertips brushing lightly over the tissue. It made her skin tingle.

He looked up at her. "This shouldn't hurt a whole lot. Just some pulling."

"I've had stitches removed before." She answered somewhat impatient.

He half leaned on the counter to start working on the side of her thigh, snipping and pulling the thread out in small pieces. An uncomfortable sensation, as they were leaving the already healing skin. But nothing compared to the pain of getting them in the first place.

She relaxed her neck again and let her head hang, looking down at her lap, only seeing her tank top and panties. She had stopped bothering about being half naked around him. He did remember her in other ways, anyway. As much as she tried, she couldn't remember him that way, not exactly. It was all a mush, only remembering the sensation of him, but no details.

He was standing so close to her that she noticed a hint of soap on him, his hair looked washed, despite the messiness, as if he had already taken a shower earlier. _How long have I been out?_ She wondered again.

She found it was interesting to watch him work, the way he could deeply concentrate on a task at hand, completely sunken into what was in front of him. His hands moved so meticulously, it was fascinating to her just how well both of them worked.

There was a painful pull and it made her flinch. He stopped and looked at her.

"Are you ok?"

"Mhm."

He continued his work. "How long have you lived here?" He asked her suddenly.

She pressed her lips together. "About three weeks."

He nodded. "I checked at your old address when I started looking for, but you had already moved out by then."

It honestly didn't surprise her anymore, the scrutinizing ways that he had been stalking her. But it still made her irritated. "Did you follow me here, or how did you know my new address?"

"I followed you." Was all he answered, pulling another painful bit of thread and looked at her. Then his eyes dropped, hovering over her exposed right shoulder. Natasha looked at him confused, trying to understand what he was seeing.

_Her red scar, from the bullet he had shot through her on the overpass. Was he only now seeing that?_ He started his work on her thigh again. He didn't seem to want to mention or apologize for it.

"Yes. You shot me there. Twice now." She said out loud. She could be blunt too and had said it with a bit too much accusation in her voice. But she was angry at his obliviousness. She felt her anger was justified, coming so close to dying.

He didn't respond, only pulled one last piece of thread out, inspecting the wound. Then stepped to the sink, letting the scissor and tweezer clatter into it. Something was starting to bother him, she could see it on him.

"And I know that you remember." She continued, trying to get a reaction from him. But he wasn't looking at her.

She wanted to slide of the counter, when he turned to her, pinning her thigh down. She froze. He stepped back in front of her, looking down on her small frame.

"It wasn't me, who did that." His voice quiet now, his pale eyes staring at her. He dropped both of his hands on her thighs, stepping between them, holding her on the counter.

"I believe I saw you quite clearly that day." She said between her teeth, putting a hand flatly on his chest.

He went silent, dropping his eyes. She could tell he was brooding over something. His hands felt heavy on her legs.

"Is that why you deleted my file?" He asked her mildly, looking back at her bruised face.

So it was all about this god damned file. She hated it so much in this moment, she wished she had done it. She looked up at him, angry and stubborn.

"And what if I did?" Her voice defiant, full of rage, wanting to hurt him, like he had hurt her. Her hands were pushing him away. "All you care about is that damn file. I almost died several times over it.. all you can do is hurt me, over and over.." She couldn't stop her anger, all the fear and pain she had endured in the Hydra base was pouring out of her.

Barnes sighed. He took her arms into his hands, his pale eyes looking at her sadly. "I didn't mean for that to happen." He pulled her towards him and held her tightly.

She didn't respond, burying her face in his chest. He wrapped an arm around her, stroking her back, his fingertips going from her neck down her back in big circles. She slowly pulled back away from him again and their eyes met. His pale eyes were full of raw emotion, it was almost too much for her to bear. She could see a storm raging again behind them, something that even he couldn't control.

She brought a hand up his vest and gently pulled him towards her.

Natasha pressed her lips on him, carefully to not hurt her scab, and felt him respond to it, kissing her back. There was a jolt in her body, when she felt his familiar stubbles and his hair tickling her face. He took her lower lip gently into his mouth, sucking on it, caressing it. She tasted his upper lip in return.

She could smell his overwhelming musky scent again, and it only made her want more. She opened her mouth and he slowly slid his tongue in, wet and heavy, a deep rumble going through his chest. She was lost in the feeling of having him back in her, his massive weight pressing into her, pushing her legs apart.

His fingertips were digging into the soft flesh of her legs, while she brought her hands up to his shoulders. She drank in the smell and taste of him, feeling herself growing hot and pulsing under the constant pressure of his hips, could feel his need for her building.

His bionic hand started to slowly slide up her top, the hard metallic surface scraping on her soft skin, closing around the tender flesh of her small, right breast, cupping it, squeezing her. She arched her back slightly into it, an almost involuntary reaction of her body. Her heart was exploding in her chest, pounding loudly, she knew where this was leading, but was not able to stop herself.

He squeezed her again, her nipple sticking out between his fingers, his thumb stroking along the curve of her breast, her shirt shuffling under his movements. She felt the heat in her stomach spread between her legs, arching even more into him, giving him permission to continue.

His right hand wandered down, between her legs. She felt his fingertips pushing against her warm, soft mound, going in small circles, against her growing wetness. She clasped a hand around his arm, pressing his hand further into her, making her moan into his mouth. She was at a point of no return, she wanted him, despite what he had done to her for the past week.

With a sucking sound, he removed his tongue from her mouth, giving her one more bite into her lower lip. He quickly pushing the fabric of her panties down and slid two fingers inside of her, watching her reaction. The sensation was a shock for her, making her flinch, her mouth hung open, her fingers clawing into his chest.

"James.. " She panted and arched her back. He started to move them in and out of her, wetting her, loosening her walls, while he watched silently. His bionic hand pinned down her right thigh, his thumb stroking the inside of her leg softly. She wanted his armor off, and started pulling on it. But he ignored her, being too impatient to take the time for it, and leaned her back to just focus on her sensation. Her back hit the vanity, giving him complete control of her body, while he moved in and out of her.

"Don't.. stop.." She was panting, letting loose of all the built up tension and pain she had endured, all rational thought leaving her mind. He only kept going.

She was quivering under his movements and every stroke was wetting her further. His bionic hand was digging harder into her thigh and she could sense his need to have her, take her, unable to hold back anymore. He withdrew his hands, leaving her oddly empty, and set them on the side of her panties, yanking them down quickly, exposing her to him. Barnes positioned himself in front of her, forcing her legs far apart. She heard his belt buckle clank and the fabric of his pants, freeing himself, and then could feel him press hard against her. He leaned down heavily on her, pinning her onto the countertop with his massive chest, his mouth right next to her ear.

"I want to hear you, Natasha." He rumbled, and pushed into her, her walls incredibly tight around him.

Dutifully, she moaned out loud, arching her back and buckled her hips to feel him even closer. There was the familiar pain at first, as he pushed further. He was incredibly heavy on her, but it was comforting and exciting her at the time as she felt him enter. She shuddered under him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, scratching his neck. She nestled her face into his shoulder, kissing and biting his skin.

He leaned up, cupping her left breast with his good hand, holding it tight, while he started thrusting into her. Pain turned into incredibly good pleasure. She wrapped her legs around his hips to encourage him to go faster. Every thrust was making her moan uncontrollably, unable to suppress it. He was all that existed for her now, everything else forgotten.

She looked up at him, as his hips were driving into her. _Her_ Winter Soldier. His pale eyes full of lust for her. He was still someone she couldn't completely understand. And he was driving her insane.

He kept going quicker, a deep rumble in his chest, not able to pace himself. It was too much for her, she was breathing heavy and her walls were tightening, she could feel herself almost there, approaching her climax quickly. He felt her tensing up around him and lowered himself back on her, thrusting deeper.

"Come for me." He growled, his hair hanging in tangles over her face, his breath quick on her sweaty skin.

It sent her over the edge into an intense orgasm, one that she hadn't received in a long time. He followed her just moments later with a deep rumble in his chest. Her heart exploded with every single emotion for him.

Even after they had finished, she laid under him for a while longer, panting heavily. He was lying on top of her, his face to the side of her in her hair, breathing hard himself. Basking in the afterglow, she was trying to understand what had happened.

She couldn't resist his pull, he was simply drawing her in, making her heart feel heavy and full of fireworks at the same time.

A sentence rang through her head.

_Love is for children. _It made her oddly sad.

He finally leaned back and pulled out of her, making her immediately miss his presence. He tucked himself in. There was a small smile around his mouth and his eyes were alive. Natasha leaned up herself, closing her sore legs, still feeling him between them.

He helped her silently off the counter, holding her by the waist. She landed with a small "oof" almost stumbling to the ground and had to hold herself up with two arms. _I might as well take another shower_. Not sure what to say out loud, she just reached for her panties. Barnes leaned next to her against the vanity, watching her.

She slid her underwear back up on her legs - she would need a new pair - and straightened her top. She sensed that he was staring at her and simply returned his gaze. A soft expression was on his face, smiling at her. She kept her face neutral, but she knew it was probably red and sweaty, her hair in messy red strands. He barely looked any different, she had mussed up his hair though, and it was tangled.

He watched her a moment longer then pushed himself away from the counter. "Let's go back to bed. We'll talk in the morning." His voice was a rumble in his chest, but mild at the same time.

"Actually, I am taking another shower." She hadn't said it snippy, or angry, she wasn't sure what to feel. She just wanted to process this alone.

He didn't respond, but understood her hint. He took a step towards her and lowered his head, giving her a quick kiss, then left her behind in the bathroom.

* * *

**It was time to take some of the tension off. **

**Also, I loooove Bucky's long hair, and he doesn't get to cut it off, sorry :)**


	18. Am I Falling?

"You are walking on a fine line." She murmured to herself, standing absentmindedly in the shower for the second time that night.

_Or am I falling already?_

He was a ghost. A ghost from her past, coming to haunt her, ripping open old wounds that she rather wanted forgotten. But she was caught up in his whirlwind, as it was storming over her and sweeping her off her feet, no way out. Now that she had broken one of the last barriers, where would this end for her?

_You are a SHIELD agent._

Every time he got close, the floodgates in her head crashed open with unwanted feelings for him, despite still being nervous around him. She sometimes had to keep her hands from trembling under his unrelenting stare. No matter how comfortable they might have been once with each other, the uncontrolled and silent rage of the Winter Soldier was keeping her on the edge.

Only this time, she had been the initiator and knowingly blown all rational thought out of the window.

She closed her eyes and leaned back under the hot water raining down on her. Natasha was rinsing a second time under the shower, not expecting that what had happened, would have happened. Or she could have planned this all a bit better.

_You knew exactly where this would all end._

She squirted more soap on a washcloth and cleaned herself off, removing all leftovers of their lovemaking.

"Hah." She suddenly laughed out loud. It brought her back to reality.

_Lovemaking._

It had purely been sex what had happened earlier in her own bathroom. Betrayed by her own body that had been craving it for so long. _Love_ was something else. Not a physical act between a captor and his subject. Despite the subject being very willing, she had to admit. Love was something she had no time for. There was no reason for it, only one more thing that would restrain her, have control over her. Too much baggage involved. The tug in her heart had only been the result of releasing all her endorphins in an orgasm, one she hadn't had with another man in a long time.

At least that's what she told herself.

Not that she hadn't enjoyed it. In fact it had been really, really good, feeling the after effects in the soreness on her lower half, and the deep fingerprints he had left on her. What do a couple more bruises mean? Not much really.

She turned off the water and shoved all intrusive thoughts to the side, relaxing her frown into a neutral expression. Her clothes laid on the floor in disarray, and she carefully put everything back on, down to her pants and shirt. Her legs felt tired and heavy, along with the rest of her body, and the warm shower had made her sleepy again. She stepped out of the bathroom and heard the tv running up ahead.

He was sitting in her living room, leaning back on the small couch. His head turned when he heard her walking by.

"Going to bed?" He asked, as she slowly limped by, not stopping.

"Yeah…" Her voice was husky and strained.

"I'll be there in a bit."

She narrowed her eyes, which was making some of her bruises pull painfully on her forehead. Her only wish now, was to go back to sleep. She was out before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

She straightened a wrinkle on the top of her black dress as she slowly walked up the grand marmor steps that lead to the ballroom, her high heels clicking on the hard surface. Nicely dressed up couples were walking past her, arm in arm, laughing about something or another, enjoying the mild evening and the spectacular, grandiose mansion they had been invited to. Natasha was by herself, something a bit unusual among the other guests, but helpful nonetheless. It would make her job much easier.

A group of three gentleman standing on top the stairs had seen her approach and were bowing slightly at her as she walked by, raising their glasses of champagne, giving her a small nod and wink. She put on a coy smile, nodded back at them and walked towards the entrance of the house. She caught her reflection in the glass doors as she entered, her hair in soft black curls, going over her shoulders. Loud music and exiting chatter greeted her immediately, the atmosphere was full of amusement, the kind that rich people enjoy.

She grabbed a glass of champagne and scanned the room, narrowing down on the giant bar area. She would look there first. And she didn't have to search long, making out the middleman easily, having his face memorized. He had no idea who she was, but she kept her distance nonetheless. She watched him for a good amount of the evening, before he finally made the move she had been waiting for. He greeted her actual target in a quiet corner of the room and they both disappeared somewhere in the back.

Now that she knew what the target looked like, all she had to do was wait.

000

She walked out with her target arm in arm late that night, laughing, talking in her native tongue, brushing his cheek with her fingertips, making his eyes glisten. He had an affinity for vodka, and he had already had his share. She made sure that none of the security guards inside the house saw her as she left with him into the sprawling yard in the back of the house. The ones outside had been taken of. She consciously guided him past the dead guards lying in the darkness of the garden, shot in the head with a single bullet.

She took him all the way out into a quiet, dark corner, where the woods started creeping onto the manicured landscape. Her target was holding her tight, a hand resting on one of her breasts, full of anticipation.

The Winter Soldier was waiting for them out in the shadows. Once he saw his dark figure, their target tried to wrestle free in utter shock. Then only fell on his knees and begged. The Soldier took over the interrogation part, while she watched silently. It didn't take long before he was only a shivering mass on the ground, having spilled all the information they needed to know. He killed him with a quick motion of his arm, snapping his neck, then looked up to her with dark eyes. Natasha's face was neutral, but it had a faint smile on it. There was an immense pride within her, that she didn't allow herself to show. But he knew, he felt the same. Stepping over the lifeless body, he wrapped an arm around her waist, taking her into the night.

000

It had been two weeks since that mission and Natasha walked back towards the Hydra base in the early morning hours, covered in dirt and sweat from her ten mile run through the sparse woods and dusty paths. Her mood was sour, having expected him back from an assignment three days earlier. Exercising only helped so much, when what she needed was actual training.

She went straight to the training room and started throwing kicks and punches into the hanging sand sacks, until her legs were almost giving out from under her. A movement behind her caught her eye. She whirled around.

He was leaning in the door frame, silently watching her, still wearing his combat armor from the mission he had just returned from. She wiped her messy hair out of her sweat covered face.

"You are late." She meant to say it as a statement, but made it sound like an accusation instead.

"I got held up." He only looked at her, not apologetic, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his dark hair brushing past his face.

She cocked her head, her wet ponytail swinging with it. "For three days? I should have been sent with you."

He only returned her gaze, not answering right away. They were alone in the sprawling training room, only faint, muffled noises from other students in the base coming through to them.

"Stay here. I'll be right back." He turned around and walked off. She looked at the empty door for a second longer, then returned her concentration back to her sand sacks, pounding on them.

Natasha didn't have to wait too long, before he entered again in workout clothes. They started sparring like they usually would, not holding back much on either one. Her punches and kicks were precise and she was fast, but he trumped her in raw strength, sending her to the mat in painful throws. She would wipe out his legs under him and try to stay on his backside, evading his fast hands.

But she was slower than usual from having exerted herself all day already, and he landed a painful kick on her that knocked the wind out of her lungs. Her back hit the mat hard and he was on top of her at once, pinning her hands behind her head, both of their sweaty bodies molding into each other. His eyes were glinting at her, now full of hunger.

"Do you know what I want to do with you?" He growled, sweat dropping down onto her.

She cocked an eyebrow at his arrogance, but heat was collecting in her lap. This was the game they liked to play.

"You can try." She pulled up a knee from under him and kicked him hard into his side, just under his kidneys. With a groan his hands loosened on her and she rolled out from under him. He got ahold of her leg and pulled her back, while she used the momentum to fling herself at him with force, knocking him on his back.

She ended up on top of him, straddling him for once slightly out of breath. He held still, enjoying his view of her arching torso, seeing her full lips turned into a grin. Natasha wanted him right then and there, pulling him up into a sitting position, their foreheads leaning against each other. His mouth brushed against hers and she could feel his hard breath and his scent that she couldn't get enough of. She squeezed her thighs around him. His hands dug hard into her thighs and it sent shivers up her spine.

There were loud voices outside in the hallway, close to the gym, approaching slowly.

He pulled back from her, his hands falling off, as her face fell into a frown.

"Not here." He whispered. "Tonight."

000

Natasha woke up with a start, a hand covering her mouth and a warm, heavy weight pinning her down into her mattress. Her entire body tensed up, her eyes fluttering open in the darkness of her tiny dorm. It was him. Him, being the only person that could sneak up on her like that, unnoticed. Natasha's eyes flitted to his dark shape hovering on top of her, her warm breath hitting his metallic hand, which was soaking up her body heat. His mouth brushed next to her ear, his long hair lazily falling into her face.

"Shh."

A shiver went through her. She gave a quick nod and relaxed her arms and legs to some degree, leaving a tension in her core to be able to support his weight. Her back was complaining quietly after an intense day of training, but she ignored it. He slowly removed his hand from her face and she licked over her lips, as if she could take off the metallic taste. The Winter Soldier's eyes were on her, calm and dark, watching her. A silence washed over them, only broken by the muffled sounds of her adjusting under his hard body, parting her legs for him as he nestled between them. She could feel his muscles work under just a thin shirt and pants, pressing warmly into her own exposed skin.

He had stopped moving and was leaning over her on his forearms, putting his right hand loosely into her hair, twirling one of the red strands. Natasha's mouth hung slightly open, her lip glistening where she had licked it. The sight of it made him harden, she could feel it pressing against her inner thigh. One of her hands ran into his tangled hair, almost roughly, trying to get him to go on. He grinned at her impatience, then slowly lowered his mouth onto hers, taking her lower lip between his teeth. Carefully at first, sucking up the wetness, replacing it with his own, then harder, biting down on her. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, suppressing a cry, when he used the opportunity to fill her mouth with his tongue. The sensation sent a shudder through her body, which he felt with satisfaction.

Natasha grasped his hair harder, pushing him even closer to her, feeling herself wetten as her hips rubbed against his hard body. With a sucking sound, he left her mouth again and leaned up, making her almost cried out in frustration. His hands started stripping her of her top and panties, while she pulled off his shirt and underwear, her fingernails leaving red scratch marks on his skin.

"We don't have much time." Her voice barely a whisper. "I want you inside me. Now." He chuckled silently, his chest vibrating on her.

He was pressing against her wet entrance, but not pushing in just yet. Only rubbing and wetting her further, when she brought down one of her own hands to make it go faster. Her breath was going in little puffs, her excitement building at feeling his hard member so close. Without much of a warning, he rolled his hips into hers and entered her, stretching her tight walls. She flung her head back, biting down hard on her lower lip, to not make a sound, only emitting a small, silent moan. Her body tensed and her stomach clenched with built up heat, rushing through her, as he pushed further in. The lack of foreplay made it painful at first. But ever so slowly it gave way to the familiar sensation. He started rocking against her, pacing himself, giving her time to adjust.

He watched her, face flushed red from the excitement he was giving her. Her usually hard controlled exterior melting away under him, all the tension leaving her body. He quickened his rhythm and she could barely control her silent moans, only coming out in small gasps. Her nails were scratching his chest and back as he kept driving into her.

He brought his bionic hand between her legs and pressed the thumb onto her sensitive spot, only making the tiniest movements. She fell apart under him, her body arched into him with such force, he had to hold her down tightly.

Her climax was intense and satisfying, putting her into a sweet bliss as he kept going to reach his own. With a low groan he spilled himself inside her just moments later.

They lay panting on top of each other, her hand was in his hair again, stroking it softly, while his hand traced the side of her body. She took his face and made him look at her.

"Stay with me for a while." She said softly, her eyes teary from their intense encounter.

He took her hand into his own, intertwining their fingers while trying to make out her shadowy face and sighed. With a small groan he lifted himself up into a sitting position.

"You know that I can't." He whispered back.

She knew what his answer was before he had said it, had heard the apology in it. But it still gave her a sting into her heart. Something she tried to quickly blend out.

He silently put his clothes back on then leaned down for a quick kiss, and he was gone, just like that.

Natasha wiped her eyes with a quick motion, fading out all thoughts that came to her, canceling all emotions.

* * *

Natasha tried to sit up in the darkness of her own bedroom, but something was holding her down and it wouldn't budge. She started panicking, convulsing her body to get out. The writhing must have woken him up, because the arm that was tightly wrapped around her, suddenly lifted off.

She immediately sat on the edge of her bed, swinging her legs out to feel the ground under them, breathing heavy, sweat running down her face.

"What's going on?" His deep voice behind her, sleepy but concerned.

Those had been memories of their past life, she realized with a shudder, triggered by having slept with him. She was chewing her lip, trying to get her breathing under control. They were something entirely new for her. Raw and emotional, despite her attempts to suppress her feelings even back then.

Natasha pressed her eyes tightly shut. Then shivered when his fingertips brushed on her back, carefully.

"It's nothing." She finally exhaled and slowly put her legs back into bed, next to him. He didn't put his arm back around her, giving her some freedom and to calm her nerves. He was back to sleep almost immediately, she only lied still and listened to his breathing for a long time.

* * *

**Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews, I'm glad most of you still like the story. I tend to write Bucky very mean on my first go every time, but I try to make him look less evil with Natasha. I kinda like how this chapter turned out. Hope you all enjoy.**


	19. Apologies

Natasha woke up for the second time, only this time it was morning, and she was alone in her bed. Grey light was filtering in through the closed blinds. She wasn't exactly a long sleeper, but he somehow always beat her most mornings by getting up incredibly early. She lazily put a hand on her face, rubbing her eyes, then held them pressed into her temples. Not wanting to mull over all the events from the previous night, she forced herself to sit up and swing her legs out of the warm comfort of her bed. She could barely remember the last time when her body had _not_ felt sore.

Aside from the bruises on her upper body, the small pull in her lower back and her sore throat, there was a different kind of soreness. She felt where his hands had dug deep into her thighs and hip. But in her head she connected that pain with pleasure, making her shudder involuntarily.

She stood up, her left ankle still pulsing warmly, not wanting to be fully used just yet. She should have iced it last evening, she thought with dismay. Digging through her dresser in the half darkness of her room, she pulled out a leggings and a comfortable shirt and slowly got dressed. She didn't really expect him to drag her outside somewhere, at least not right away.

_How crazy was he to come here? _She thought, not for the first time.

There were lights on in her kitchen, along with a radio and the delicious, but not surprising, smell of fresh coffee. He seemed to like to do this for her. She pursed her lips, and ran a hand through her soft curls falling just past her shoulders, trying to straighten her tangles, as she walked with a small limp down her hallway. A wood board creaked quietly under her. The floor was original, back from the 1940ies when this little craftsman house was built. She had liked the character of it, and it had been updated and modernized in the right places.

She rounded the edge of the hallway and saw him leaning against her counter, she almost stumbled and fell. Natasha had to do a double take. He was looking completely different, dressed in a plain dark grey t-shirt and worn out jeans and barefoot for once, instead of his black, heavy armor. Her jaw must have dropped open at the unfamiliar sight. He looked so different with normal clothes on, she was almost not sure it was the same person, aside from his bionic arm hanging out of his shirt as if it didn't belong there. His showered and damp hair was hanging low in his face, while he was looking at something in his hands. With immediate anger she realized what it was.

"Why are you looking through my personal mail? It's none of your damn business." She quickly walked up to him, despite her ankle screaming at her, and tried snatching her letters out of his hands.

He looked up at her, grinning, and held them out of her range.

"It's nice to meet you too, _Miss Radford_." There was his mocking tone again, his eyes were glinting at her.

She stood in front of him, fuming. She would not degrade herself to pull on his arm like some damn little child.

He slowly brought his hand back down and held the letters in front of her. She grabbed them, raging silently. He had seen the name she was using to rent the house with. _Anya Radford_ was a sloppy, quick alias she had given herself, in order to keep a minimum of privacy, after her real name had been printed and televised nationally. SHIELD had been able to help out with that and she was only using it for the house and utilities, it didn't have much other significance.

Natasha took a step backwards, away from him, and sorted through her mail which consisted mostly of advertisements and a couple of her first bills. Power and gas would have to get paid soon, she sorted those to the top. She suddenly felt like she had walked back into her regular life, carrying on as usual. If it hadn't been for _him_ standing in her kitchen.

With a sigh she dropped the bundle of mail back on the countertop and turned around to the fridge, opening the freezer door. She got out a cooling gel pack and carefully lied her injured leg onto the counter, balancing on one leg. Her inner thighs were pulling uncomfortably.

"Does it still hurt?" He was watching her wobbling act from a few feet away, his smile had disappeared.

"A little bit." She started wrapping the pack onto her ankle with a kitchen towel. Questions were spinning in her head again, she looked up at him, puzzled. He had always worn his armor, since she had first met him, in _this _life. She could probably draw a line between his always present armor and his constantly guarded, hard exterior. That was if she were into psychology. One layer was temporarily removed now, but she wasn't sure about the other.

"Where did you get those clothes?" She asked him.

"On the way here." His face was completely neutral again.

"How did you get them without money?"

"I took them."

_As if that explains everything._

"If you mean by that stealing or robbing, you can't keep doing that without raising a whole lot of trouble and suspicion." She felt like she was lecturing him.

"It's done, don't worry about it." His short answer to everything.

"Maybe you should worry a bit more. Doing these things has consequences in the real world. And you don't work for anyone anymore that could bail you out."

He said nothing and only raised his eyebrows as if he didn't believe her.

She sighed and brought her leg back down. Why did he decide to wear regular clothes now? It did make him look a bit less intimidating, she decided. And she knew how much of a difference a uniform could make. When she donned her flexible armor on missions for SHIELD she looked like a whole different person herself.

Now that her anger over her mail had receded, she found it hard to look him straight into the eyes, not after what they had done last night and not after her intimate dream. Instead she got busy pouring a cup of coffee, then opened the fridge again to rummage through it. She could sense him staring at her.

It gave her involuntary flashbacks of herself writhing under him, completely letting herself go. Surely he would be thinking about the same thing right now.

_Calm down, it's something you've done a thousand times. _

There had been many other men in her past and she wasn't exactly a blushing virgin, but there was something about sleeping again with her former mentor that made her face turn red. She inspected the bread in her fridge, it was moldy.

An awkward silence was creeping between them. As if there was an icy barrier whenever they were not touching each other, but she wasn't sure if he felt the same.

"You don't have a lot of food here. I've already looked." He suddenly stated blankly. His voice was a little bit hoarse.

"Well.." She started, pulling out a closed gallon of milk, opened and sniffed it. It was still fine. "I haven't been here in over nine days. And even before that, I didn't have much. Like I said, I don't cook, and I hadn't expected a guest either." She moved to her upper cabinets.

She pulled out a box of cereal and made herself a bowl, then looked at him. Really looking into his pale, intense eyes for the first time this morning.

"Do you want one?" Pointing at her breakfast.

He only shook his head slightly, his dark hair brushing over his shoulders. She suddenly noticed that he had shaved his face, somewhat sloppy, but nonetheless. His stubble was reduced to just a shadow. There was a pull in her stomach and she had an overwhelming urge to touch it, to run her fingers along his smooth skin, but instead looked down at the counter again. She took the cup, cereal bowl along with a spoon and walked around the counter to her round dining table and started eating.

He followed her around and leaned on the other side of the counter, close behind her, and fished out an old issue of the Washington Post from her pile of mail. She had become aware how he just loved having the higher ground on her. Maybe he did it unconsciously, just one of his programmed intimidation techniques, she wondered. There were things that she did unconsciously just the same.

"Do you have a computer available?" He spoke up.

She thought for a moment then looked over her shoulder. "No. One is at work and the other.. we left it behind at the farm." Her forehead went up into a frown, recalling that night, then continued.

"I don't actually know what happened to both of our machines. Maybe SHIELD agents took it and brought it into HQ. My cell phone is there as well, they said they would keep it safe. Either way, I don't have one here." Now she remembered with a pang of worry that pretty much most of her IDs, money and credit cards had been left behind as well. She hoped that it was all collected by real agents and was waiting for her in her shared office in the West HQ.

At least she wasn't completely helpless. Her mind went to her little emergency package, buried deep in her dresser, containing more papers and money. It had been ingrained to her to always have a backup. She would have to make use of that now.

He didn't respond and she turned back to her cereal, taking a sip of coffee. This one had turned out perfectly, she noticed. He somehow liked to provide for her, she thought, taking another sip.

"Natasha."

She looked back over her shoulder again, raising her eyebrows in question. He had put the newspaper down and was looking at her with dark, steely eyes. This alone made her heart hitch.

"What were you trying to tell me on the night when you lost the file?" He didn't sound angry despite his demeanor, only slightly curious. She thought about that night, including the fight, and had to suppress the urge to touch the scrape on her throat that he had given her. She looked up at him puzzled, trying to figure out what he was talking about. Then it dawned on her.

"Do you mean when I said something about a-"

Should she really bring this up now? But he knew already, so it was too late to play dumb.

"-backup?"

He nodded slowly. "You said there was one. Where is it? Or was that a lie?"

She sighed, she felt like she owed him that much. "No, I believe there is one. And on that note, I've kept wondering what happened to your laptop and I can come up with two different scenarios."

She fully turned around to him in her seat. "My first guess was, that there might have been a pre-programmed fail-safe in the file or on your laptop, which finally kicked in after it noticed that it was being hacked, and automatically deleted the file. I haven't come across those a whole lot, and they are confusing to reconstruct and understand. I didn't have enough time to look at the backlogs before…" she paused.

"... before you lost your mind" She narrowed her eyes, measuring him.

He only stared back with an empty face, but she thought there was a flash in his eyes before he spoke.

"What's the second scenario?"

He wasn't going to apologize, not that she had expected one.

"Well, it could be that it was deleted remotely, by us having stayed in a Hydra safe house. I'm not sure if they somehow picked up a signal over a hidden terminal, which told them: _A) _that we were there, and _B) _what was happening on your laptop. But if they had found out that someone was occupying that house, why was it SHIELD that came rolling into the driveway instead of Hydra? Apparently _they_ picked up on the signal instead." She took a deep breath before continuing.

"I believe SHIELD is still compromised, I mean that much was obvious."

She fell silent to let this all sink in. His expression hadn't changed and she wondered if he even cared about anything she was saying. When he spoke his voice was just a growl.

"I told you, there is no difference between them."

Her anger flashed up at that and she exhaled sharply, answering immediately.

"We talked about this before, and I'm going to be very clear now, Barnes." She narrowed her eyes. "SHIELD isn't perfect, but I have seen the good that they do in the years that I've been with them. Yes, there are still undercover and compromised agents left, which need to be eliminated. But they have done quite a lot to keep this country and pretty much the world safe. Things, that you are probably not aware of."

He gave an empty laugh. "They are using you. Are you really that blind?"

"I'm well aware of that. But it's a different use than the place where you and I come from." She had said it sharply, and his eyes looked a shade darker.

"You can't trust either of them." He wasn't listening to her arguments.

"So, are you saying I'm supposed to trust you instead?" She pursed her lips.

"Yes."

Now it was her turn to laugh humorlessly, thinking about the scars on her body. He possessed some sort of arrogance and obliviousness that made it really difficult sometimes to understand his thought process. He wanted her to trust _him? _

Why was he so fixated on her anyway, instead of any other person like, say, Steve. That particular topic would have to come up sooner or later, she realized with some worry.

"You haven't answered my question yet." His eyes hadn't left her.

She was growing irritated with him. "Your backup is deep within Shield, I'm not even sure where. It outranks my security clearing."

He crossed his arms and cocked his head as if thinking, having the answer he's been wanting to hear.

"I'm not sure what-" Natasha started.

There was a faint knock on her front door.

Their eyes went into the direction of the door. Then back at each other and locked. Her face turned into a puzzled frown, while his turned hard and deadly at once.

A second knock, more demanding.

Natasha opened her mouth to say something. Maybe he had seen something in her expression that made him do it, but she hadn't even planned to scream. He lunged at her, ripped her off her chair, covering her mouth with his bionic hand, while pressing her hard into his chest. Her body was screaming in pain at his rough treatment, and his metallic fingers were digging into her sensitive skin on her face.

_"Miss Radford, hello? Are you at home?" _A muffled female voice from behind her front door.

Natasha knew immediately who it belonged to and rolled her eyes. It was an older, widowed and incredibly nosy lady that lived a few houses down on her street. Miss Margaret Walker had been bothering her since day one that Natasha had moved in. Natasha had been trying to be discreet about her move, not wanting to engage with her neighbors on purpose, but this woman didn't miss anything that happened in this street.

"Who is that?" His voice was icy in her ear. He was able to hear her heart beat loudly in her chest, they were pressing into each other so close.

She tried pulling his hand off her mouth to answer, her body bucking into his. He dropped the hand down, putting it loosely on her throat.

"It's just my neighbor, stop freaking out." She whispered back.

_"Anya, it's me, Margaret. I need to talk to you." _She paused. _"I see your lights are on."_

Natasha tried to pry his hands off her waist, but he was still holding her tightly pressed against him.

"Let me handle this or she won't go away." She was whispering more desperate now, unsure what he would do. He didn't react right away, trying to calculate before he answered.

"Get rid of her. Or I will." He growled, his arms falling off. Natasha stumbled and half limped barefoot over her wood floor to the heavy, antique frontdoor. Him right behind her. She licked her lips, they had blood on them. _Great._ He had opened her wound. She undid the safety bolt then saw his dirty boots in plain view and shuffled them out of the way with her foot. Natasha opened the front door just enough to fit her body into the gap, blocking the view to the interior. Barnes leaned on a wall behind the door, out of sight, as it swung open.

"What is it, Miss Walker?" She didn't even try to mask her annoyance, maybe that would get rid of her faster. Margaret just loved trying to pry any kind of information from her, while airing dirty laundry about the rest of the neighbors. Natasha had to summon all her patience when dealing with her, not interested in her petty gossip, but knowing how quick she was to call the police on people over minor things. Luckily this woman hadn't recognized who she really was, or she would have to move again just based on that.

There was a moment of shock on the other woman's face, when Natasha opened her door. The older lady was standing on the steps of her little front porch, dressed up perfectly, as if she had just arrived from Stepford and immediately went into her spiel of pretend concern.

"Anya. I haven't seen you in a while, I was starting to get worried." Her eyes lit up over something, and her eyebrows crinkled in fake sympathy as she was staring her up and down.

Natasha realized with a groan what her bruised face must look like to anyone else. She hadn't applied make up yet and was kicking herself on the inside, trying to suck at least the blood off her lips.

"Well, I was on vacation. Out of state."

"Ah. You should have told me, I could have looked after your house. You never know who might try to break in here when they find an empty looking home. And we would like to keep our street safe." There were some not so hidden accusations in her high pitched voice.

"Yeah, next time. Was that all you needed?" She started to shut her door, when Margaret took one more step towards her, as if she had something important to say.

"Well, I'm simply concerned. There might be thieves out here, it's not uncommon. And it could be dangerous, especially for a young lady like you, living here by herself. The Campfield's house on the corner was broken into just two months ago, because they were too stingy to keep paying their ADT bills. Can you believe that?" The other woman was mustering her up and down, from her bruises to her wrapped ankle.

"I'm fine by myself, thank you." Natasha said, unable to suppress a snippy tone. The other lady narrowed her eyes now, under those manicured eyebrows and the perfectly sculpted hair-do.

"I don't want to be nosy, Anya, but are you ok? I was shocked when you opened the door to see your pretty face like that. Did you get into an accident?"

Natasha smiled thinly.

"I slipped while hiking up in Rothrock State Park. And if you don't mind, I'll tell you another time about my vacation." Trying to shut the door again.

But Margaret replied hastily, not letting her go just yet. "The reason I'm actually here is." She paused, her eyebrows went up as if she was savoring this moment.

"That two nights ago I saw a car pull into your driveway, and a suspicious looking man entered your house. And since you had been gone for a while, I was getting worried. I was _this _close to calling the police, but I thought I would ask you first. Robbers don't usually enter through the front door, but I've seen stranger things happen. Did you have anything missing?"

She had seen Barnes, Natasha groaned on the inside.

"It's just my boyfriend, he just moved up here." She told her lies without hesitation. The other woman's eyes went wide with surprise.

"Ah, your boyfriend. What does he do?" Margaret asked now highly interested.

Natasha was unconsciously balling her hands into fists.

"He's still looking for a job. Look, I was just about to make an important phone call-"

But her neighbor didn't give up that easily, stepping even closer to Natasha, putting a hand on her door. The wheels in Margaret's head were turning, Natasha could see it, she was trying to process all this information. Then her face turned completely sympathetic as she looked over Natasha's bruises, but there was a glint in her eyes. She lowered her voice, as if talking about a secret.

"Just between us, Anya. I don't want to be so forward, but-"

She dramatically cleared her throat.

"Has he done this to you? Does he beat you? Because, you can trust me if you need anything. I know how they can be to young women and I have good contacts at the local Sheriff's-"

"No." Natasha interrupted harshly, struggling to stay calm. "He didn't. Like I said, I fell down a ditch. And besides that, it's really none of your damn business." She closed the door into Margaret's face with a loud slam, before she could get another word in.

There would have to be another move in her future.

She looked with dark eyes to her left at Barnes. He was leaning on the wall and the corner of his mouth was pulled up into a grin.

"Boyfriend?"

"Don't even say a damn word right now." She warned him quietly, then walked back to the table, to her now cold cup of coffee.

000

She spent the rest of the morning and noon in her bathroom, kitchen and other parts of her house, cleaning away spoiled food and dust, and the mess he made in her bathroom while shaving. He had used one of her razors, no wonder it hadn't worked all that great on his face. She cleaned up his hair around the sink. Then went to brush her teeth, when she noticed he had used her toothbrush as well.

"That's disgusting." She murmured in the empty room.

He could have just asked her, but now she just rummaged through one of her moving boxes and got out a new one for herself and brushed her teeth. Her bruises were still quite visible, and she couldn't quite blame her neighbor for coming to that conclusion. She had taken a beating, just not by him. Her eyes went to the empty part of the vanity top. He had caused different bruises on her.

She finished up in the bathroom, then moved to the kitchen and cleaned there.

He was reading a few week old newspapers, ignoring her efforts, which was ok with her.

In the back of her mind she was arguing with herself, while working these menial tasks. She had gone from trying to get into contact with police, to effectively hiding him from the public. All within a week and a half. She felt it was safer for him, her and anyone else if she didn't get other people involved right now. But why did she care about his safety so much? What about her own?

He wanted her to trust him. But that was like playing with a loaded gun, not knowing when it goes off. Then again, she knew her way around those, too.

He hadn't made a move yet to leave the house and was occupying her living room. She felt he was waiting for her foot to recover, but she wasn't completely sure about that. It would be difficult to get around with neither of them having papers, unless he was planning to steal everything.

_Her box with backup papers. _She had meant to check on that and made a mental note.

After the spoiled food was gone out of her kitchen, along with trash and dust, Natasha went back into her bathroom, deciding to do something for herself after nine days of not having a choice. Among the few items in her vanity was a straightening iron, she plugged it in and pushed its button. While it was heating, she got out her foundation and started to apply it, covering her black eye and the yellow and violet bruises on her forehead, even if it was just for herself. She couldn't find a lipstick, so her lip stayed marked by a dark red crack going through it. The iron had warmed up by then and she straightened her hair, taking her time. She had worn it straight for a while now, liking the different look. Strand after strand fell down over her shoulders until it all looked uniform. She put everything up again and brushed a hand through her hair, satisfied, her green eyes looking emptily back at herself. It was late afternoon by now and she felt finally good about herself.

Natasha walked back into her kitchen and started pulling out pasta noodles and a sauce. Her stomach was complaining loudly at the thought of food, not having eaten since breakfast. Barnes was still occupied with newspapers on her couch, but he got up when he heard her working.

He walked around the counter and stopped, looking at her confused.

"What did you do?" His eyes hung on her red hair.

"I straightened it." She got out a big pot and filled it with water.

"I liked it the way it was."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't do it for you."

He slowly walked into the kitchen, his bare feet tapping over the floor, stopping next to her in front of the sink.

"You know what it reminds me of?" He asked her.

"No, what?"

"You looked exactly like this when I saw you for the first time again, five weeks ago." He seemed fascinated by it.

"Yeah.." _When we battled over life and death. _She turned off the sink and walked around him and put the pot onto an eye on the stove and turned it on. He was staring blankly past her, as if lost in thought.

"We met on that street." He started, thinking hard.

"You mean, we fought." She added darkly.

"Yep. You thought you could you could trick me. With your phone." Barnes turned towards her, as she was bending over the stove, putting a few handful of pasta into the water.

"I guess so." She didn't want to talk about that day, not now.

"But I knew what you were doing." He laughed, before continuing.

"Still, you landed a decent attack. But I recognized that move, from long ago, something only you would do." He was half smiling at her.

She had frozen, just staring ahead, trying to stay calm.

_Did he not understand the severity of what happened on the overpass?_

"I was fighting... for my damn life. It wasn't games." Her voice shuddered nonetheless. "And I almost lost it."

"I know." His pale eyes piercing her. He had noticed how rigid she had become.

"Well, it's good that you do." She exhaled slowly, watching the pasta sink under water, as if it was the most interesting sight of the day.

"You were my assigned target that day." As if that was an apology. As if that explained everything. But in the back of her mind, she knew it did for him.

She said nothing.

"I had to kill you, I had no other choice." He tried to explain. There was a sadness in his voice.

She noticed she was clutching the countertop hard, her knuckles white. He had no idea how scared she had been, before and especially after she had recognized him. The crushing realization that it was him, once she had seen his arm and knowing what he was capable of, it had almost made her blind with panic. Of course he hadn't known her then, she had only been his target to kill.

That day had caused her nightmares for the following weeks - PTSD or whatever they call it nowadays - but she had been too proud to confide with anyone about him and their past. Steve had only been wanting to see the good in him. Insisted on it. So Natasha had kept quiet.

She wasn't looking at him, when he pushed himself away from the counter.

He slowly took three steps walking up to her, stopping right behind her. She tensed up. He carefully laid his good arm around her waist, and lowered his face onto her left shoulder, she could feel his warm breath on her skin. She had been grasping the counter top as if she needed something to hold on to. But now she let go and stood straight, with him in her back. He kissed her shoulder through her shirt, pressing his lips into the warm fabric. She bowed her head slightly to the right, biting her lower lip.

This was his way to apologize.

He grasped her tighter, breathing deeply into her, his mouth moving slightly down her shoulder, as if to find the scar from his bullet. Her heart was fluttering nervously, but it gave her a warm feeling despite the ugly memories. She didn't want him to stop, but..

"James.." She forced herself to take his arm off and turned around to him, holding it in her hand. He looked at her with pale eyes.

"They gave me the order." His voice was hoarse.

"It's ok. I understand." She swallowed, trying to blend out her own fear of him, her eyes flitting in between his. He didn't respond, but his troubled eyes were telling her everything.

"Let's not talk about it anymore." She mumbled softly, trying to switch the topic. "Help me with dinner." She squeezed his arm and let it drop, then turned back to the stove. She took a smaller pot and dumped the sauce into it to heat it up.

He wordlessly stepped right next to her to look at the food, standing shoulder to shoulder. She moved away to get plates out for the table, while he started stirring in the boiling pots, adjusting the temperature. Natasha turned and mustered him from further away. He looked so normal, despite the arm. His t-shirt showed the muscles working on his back, as her gaze went up his back and to his head. It was mostly covered by his dark hair, but there were fine, irregular red lines on the skin above his shirt, around the base of his neck, some going down his back. _Her scratch marks from last night_, she realized while her heart skipped a beat.

_Who of us is more messed up? _She wondered.

* * *

**This chapter turned into a long piece of fluff, but it was fun to write out. I've been pretty busy in real life, but I'm trying to find the time to keep this story going.**

**I'm always curious what you all think.**


	20. Survive

Whenever she looked at him, there was a pull in her stomach and her heart lurched. It was partly from pain and anxiety and partly something else.

In the back of her mind she had hoped that if she was intimate with him, she would be able to bury those bad memories. But that hadn't happened so far. He still sometimes conjured up fear in her.

_You have to survive, one way or another._

She had survived him as trainer and student in the Red Room.

_He was holding her down on the ground, twisting her arms painfully behind her back. She wasn't able to move out of sheer agony, her breath was going in small gasps. But there was no sound coming from her, despite every nerve in her body screaming. It was just one of the many tests to measure how much she could endure. _

She had survived him when they met again as assassin and target.

_She had recognized the ghost of her past, and she was running from him. He stood on the bridge, reloading his rifle. Click. Click. Then he followed her. She staggered, screaming at people to get out of the way. Her lungs were burning, her heart jumping out of her chest._

_He took aim._

_She knew he never missed his mark. _

_This was her punishment for her crimson past. Her hands had always been drenched in blood, leaving a trail of red wherever she went. She would never have been able to come out clean. What would happen next was inevitable. _

_His bullet hit her. _

_A blinding pain in her side, shooting through her entire body, she staggered onto the ground, throwing herself behind a car. A bloodstain blooming and spreading on her shirt. It had to end like this, at his hands. _

_Maybe somehow she had always known._

_She pressed her hand into it, covering it in red. Her own. With her ears ringing she looked down to the wound. The blood was coming from her shoulder instead of her heart._

_He had never missed his mark. _

_Until now._

000

She was looking hard at him, sitting at the same table with her, eating dinner. He was lost in his own thoughts, and hadn't said a word since they had their falling out over his assignment to kill her. He had been acting distressed over trying to explain why he had shot her, and she understood his struggle. The brainwashing had taken his memory and it was ingrained into him to follow orders blindly. That was how Hydra had used him, had used her before.

He was bent over the table, silently shoveling food into his mouth, his long hair hanging into his face. His bionic arm was laying next to his plate, close to her right hand. Her eyes kept wandering to it, fascinated by the advanced technology that it was made of. Not for the first time she pondered _if_ and _what_ he was able to feel with it. But seeing the way he used it, it seemed to work just like an arm made of flesh and blood for him.

Natasha's anger had subsided, only leaving a nervous flutter in her stomach behind. She didn't like the silence between them. It wasn't good if he tormented himself over something that had been out of his control.

"What do you think? About the food?"

His eyes shifted to her. "It's good."

"Well, there's a lot left. So, eat up."

She had finished her portion and was feeling full already. But he could easily eat three times as much, she guessed. When he took his last scoop, she reached for his plate and picked it up.

"Want more?"

"..Yeah." His pale eyes were watching her expressionlessly.

"Ok. Just a sec." She walked into the kitchen with her limping left ankle and looked out of the window. Her small backyard and adjacent neighbor's houses were cast in overcast, grey evening light. The clouds hadn't much let up today and hung over them in a thick blanket. _Beautiful Washington fall weather._

"I need to buy more groceries in the morning, I'm running out." She spoke loudly while scooping more noodles for him, as if she was informing him of her plans. She didn't even have a car to go out and buy any. He didn't respond to her idea.

_If we are still here in the morning?_

She walked back with his plate, setting it down in front of him, then sat down herself. He started eating his second portion without saying a word, his pale eyes not looking at anything.

This was the first time he had shown some sort of conscious for his past actions and she wasn't sure if she should encourage it or not. Just days ago he had been rather bragging about his work as the Winter Soldier. Of course he had, successful missions meant everything to him, and Hydra had been telling him so, like they had told her when she had worked for them. They had regarded his bloody work as if it was the highest achievement in life. And it was still anchored in his mind set.

For the first time he was comprehending a different kind of view. It was painful to realize, that you had been lied to for most of your life. That everything you had worked for and everything you had done, might have caused terrible consequences. She had been through it. Although it was good to come to this conclusion, she couldn't see him like this any longer.

She got up to walk to the kitchen with her own empty plate, but stopped by his side.

"Listen, if you let these things torture you, they will eat you alive. You may not agree with me, but that is the reason why I choose to move on as much as I can. There will be memories that come haunt you for the rest of your life, but you have to put them where they belong. In the past."

She reached a hand out, brushing his shoulder, then let it fall again.

He looked up to her with pale eyes. She exhaled slowly, this was a difficult topic to talk about. She felt she should take some of her own advice more seriously.

"Did you recognize me?" His voice was a low growl, an unreadable emotion entering his eyes.

She had to avert her own, staring at the floor.

"I did." Yes, of course she had, that was the whole cause of her anxiety. "And it wasn't easy to deal with."

"I never knew it was you. They took that from me." His voice sounded a shade darker.

_He had missed his mark._

"I know that you didn't, I saw it in your face. That day."

He slowly dropped his head again and bent back over his food. She stood there a moment longer.

"Remember what I said. Don't beat yourself up over it."

Then she walked to the kitchen and started cleaning up.

000

She was rinsing both of their plates in the sink, watching the world outside get darker, as night approached. He had finished eating in silence and was lying quietly on her couch, his head sunken into some of her old newspapers.

She loaded the plates into the dishwasher, then put the rest of the dinner into the fridge and began cleaning the countertops. She knew she sometimes turned into a clean freak after coming home from long, exhausting missions, maybe to have a little grasp of a normal life. She wasn't sure. Living in less than perfect conditions for long periods of time would do that to her every now and then.

Her thoughts went to the big pile of laundry in her bedroom and her own filthy clothes from her weeklong trip that she had been ignoring. She walked barefoot to her bedroom, emptied everything from the hamper and walked down the hall with it to her laundry room.

She almost stumbled over a duffel bag on the floor. It had clothes in it, but nothing she recognized. Must have been something he had stolen, she thought. His combat uniform and armor were laying next to it. Her eyes went wide, when she felt them. He had washed and dried his undershirt and pants at some point in time early this morning, since the fabric was clean. She automatically checked them for weapons anyway, but he had removed all. She pondered for a moment, then stuffed all her clothes into the washing machine and turned it on.

She emerged from the laundry room, letting the door fall shut. Her ankle was still pulsing warmly and she was trying not to stand on it.

"Natasha."

He was calling her from her living room. She slowly walked down the hallway towards him. He was sitting with a newspaper on his lap, looking at her. It seemed as if he had stopped his brooding.

"Do you have any money here?" He asked with interest.

"Maybe. I meant to check on that." She murmured, thinking about the little box in her bedroom.

"What about weapons?"

"You took both of my Glocks. I want them back by the way." She said, glancing at him.

"Was that all you have? I mean something bigger. Any sub machine guns, automatic rifles. Or at least ammunition?" Ignoring her request.

"Do I look like I own a gun store? It's just those two handguns, since I moved here. I get anything else from work as needed."

He raised his eyebrows as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I thought I had trained you better than that." He rumbled more quietly.

Natasha exhaled sharply, looking at him incredulously. She ignored his snide remark. "You have the M4, what more do you want?"

"It's low on ammo."

"Believe me when I say, I definitely don't have ammo that would fit. SHIELD provides me with the big stuff. But I have my doubts that they would borrow them to you." She narrowed her eyes at him.

He looked back down at his newspaper and exhaled quietly.

He sounded like he was planning to move on again, so soon. Her foot wasn't even fully healed yet, she was balancing on the good one while standing across from him. The thought made her stomach flutter nervously. She was rather content to be in her own home, compared to being jerked around the city and god knows where again. She hated the uncertainty of it. Being flexible was part of her job, but her patience was wearing thin.

He looked back up to her.

"Do you have a phone book here?"

"Err, no." That was a strange request. She brushed a few stray hairs behind her ear. "Nobody uses those anymore. I always throw them away."

"And instead?"

"Well, the internet. But I can't help you with that."

He furrowed his forehead and gazed back at his paper.

"You need anything else?" She asked.

"No." He was being short with her.

She turned away without another word. She had meant to go to her bedroom anyway.

000

He was asking her about money and she wasn't sure why. But she marked it off as something positive, paying people is better than robbing them.

Natasha knelt in front of her dresser and opened the bottom drawer, pulling it all the way out. She was fully aware of how cliché this hiding place was, but since her move she hadn't set aside much time to get her household in order. Her arm was in the dresser, feeling around on the bottom of the second to last drawer, until she found it, taped under it with duct tape. She pulled out a small, flat tin box and sat on the bed.

It contained _Anya Radford's_ ID. She looked at her own photo. It was only a few weeks old, her hair auburn colored and flowing straight down beyond her shoulders, her eyes empty. Now that she looked at it, she could see the stress and exhaustion on her face. With a sigh she laid it aside. She didn't want to drown herself in self pity right that moment. Underneath the ID were about $500 in cash. Not a whole lot, depending on what Barnes was planning to do. And lastly, there were a few credit cards issued for different names. She doubted that all of them still worked and only took the two that had the best chance. She would give one to him, if he asked for it again, and keep the other for herself. She laid the box on her dresser, so she wouldn't forget.

000

It was dark outside by the time she came back into the kitchen, he had sunken back into the couch and turned on the tv, watching the news. An idea had formed in her mind ever since dinner, and now she was almost excited with anticipation about it. She walked up to her fridge and stood on tip toes, opening the high cabinet over it. A few bottles of liquor greeted her, in various degrees of emptiness. She pulled out the clear Stolichnaya, one of the russian vodkas she liked to buy, and poured herself a full glass. Straight, without ice.

The first sip was a mild burn in her mouth, spreading a warmth down into her stomach as she swallowed. It was comforting and numbing at once.

"James, come here."

She looked at him over her kitchen counter, raising an eyebrow. He turned his head towards her, at first puzzled, then he saw the glass and the bottle behind her. Barnes got up and walked around the counter to her.

"Try this." She held the glass out, looking at him neutrally, but she felt a corner of her mouth going slightly up into a grin.

He took it wordlessly and smelled it, his eyes meeting hers. He furrowed his forehead but didn't say anything. Without hesitation he set the glass on his lips and took a big gulp, swallowing it. It took a second, then he froze. His eyes went wide and he turned away from her, coughing violently into his arm.

Natasha threw her head back, laughing so hard, she had tears in her eyes.

"I can't believe you just did that." She managed to say before she got another laughing fit. His reaction was just too funny. She patted his back, as he was still trying to get his coughing under control.

"Let me guess, you haven't had much alcohol in a while." She tried to comfort him, while wiping the tears from her eyes.

He was finally able to talk, turning back to her with a sour look on his face.

"No. That is awful." He wiped his mouth. She took her glass back out of his hand, taking another sip.

"Yeah, that wasn't fair, I know." She was grinning. "Don't take so much at once. You can pour yourself a glass if you want, or we can share this. I'm going to go sit outside for a bit, if you want to join."

000

The temperatures had fallen again, but it was still manageable without a jacket. Natasha sat on her covered front porch, overlooking her down sloping, quiet street. She hadn't turned on her porch light and was shrouded in total darkness, resting one of her legs up on the railing, sunken deep into her chair.

She was able to tolerate a lot more alcohol than other people, but after drinking almost a full glass by herself she was definitely buzzed. The vodka had spread over her like a calm blanket, numbing her thoughts and turning off all the pain in her body. Which she was thankful for. Why didn't she do this more often? It felt good.

She looked at the faint stars in the grey and black sky, breaking through holes in the cloud cover, never growing tired of that sight. It made her feel sad somehow. There were people out there that cared for her, and who were looking for her, right at that moment. And she felt like she was deceiving them. Not on purpose, but maybe she should try harder to reach out to them.

Should she really though, or handle things her own way?

Her mind went blank again.

He hadn't joined her yet and she wasn't sure why. Why did he not want to sit with her?

The better question was, why was that bothering her? Usually she was glad to be alone.

She had never felt such conflicting emotions before. Most of the time she was good with dividing things up into black and white. People belonged in either one or the other category.

She wasn't sure yet where to put him.

Natasha took the last sip of her vodka, emptying the glass then quietly sat it on the floor. The movement made her head spin. She leaned back again, watching the blinking lights in the distance among the gentle rolling hills. Homes full of families, just living their lives, raising their kids. Doing mundane things.

It was something she had never really wanted in her life, never was allowed to have. She wasn't capable of having a normal relationship and that's what she had to tell Clint, right before he had left for a mission in Afghanistan. She knew that he had wanted so much more from her and she simply couldn't give it to him. It had been smothering her and it wasn't fair to make him believe that she was happy with the way things were. She saw how it had broken his heart and it had made her even more miserable. She hadn't heard from him since, not that she had expected to.

Her eyes were feeling heavy and she could probably fall asleep out here, despite the cool temperatures in this early fall night. With a groan she sat herself up straight. It was time to go inside before she really snoozed off. She walked slowly to the front door and quietly let herself in.

000

Only a small light in the kitchen was on, but she saw him quite clearly.

She was looking straight at the Winter Soldier, dressed back in his dark uniform, the thick vest strapped around his chest. Her gun was in a holster on his side and the rifle lying on the dining table next to him. He had a foot on one of her chairs, pulling on his second combat boot.

The sight immediately sent icy shivers down her spine, her buzz momentarily forgotten.

_This was not good. Definitely not._

She approached him slowly, running a hand along the wall so she wouldn't stumble too badly. He looked at her, no expression on his face. It scared her, right then and there.

_You have to survive. _

What was he doing? Was he going to drag her off again? He would take her somewhere, right now, and she was too drunk to even walk. Sweat was breaking out on her forehead, as she leaned at the end of the hallway, just a few feet away from him.

He lowered his boot to the floor, standing up straight, then took his rifle, swinging it onto his shoulder. He slowly walked over to her, stopping just within arms reach. His presence made her shrink back into the wall. His padded vest made him look much bigger, his eyes a shade darker. The bionic arm looked oddly back in place again, the way it perfectly fit into his uniform. Chunks of dark hair hanging into his face as he looked down on her.

"What is this about?" She whispered, wishing she had never touched the vodka, her world was spinning.

"I'm going on an errand." He replied, his voice low.

"What? What does that mean?" She swallowed hard, holding on to the wall.

"It doesn't involve you. Stay here and wait for me."

The alcohol and the shock of his sudden change was making it really hard to think for her. He was going out, by himself? What the hell did he mean by errand?

"What.. if my neighbor sees you like this?" It was a dumb question, but it was the first random thing she could think of. Her mind was clouding again.

"Point out her house and I'll take care of it."

"I'm being fucking serious." She hissed.

"So am I." There was no emotion in him.

Her mouth opened and she just gaped at him. His distant, cold demeanor was sending cramps into her stomach, her blood was rushing from her head.

"Tell me right now what the fuck you are doing."

"I have a few things to take care of."

"With your fucking assault rifle?" Natasha was close to panicking, her buzz was amplifying her thumping, loud heartbeat in her chest. It was loud in her ears, overwhelming. Despite her nervousness, she grasped on the straps of his vest with both hands, as if she could hold him back.

"I'm not letting you go murdering people." Her eyes were burning and her voice was turning desperate.

His eyes were still dark, but his blank stare melted somewhat.

"Do you remember what I said this morning?" He asked. His voice sounded softer.

"What?" She asked him, exasperated.

"You can't trust the people you are working for and I am going to take care of one of them. The ones I kill are not innocent, believe me." He was talking intensely, trying to make her understand. She didn't know what to answer. He was going to kill someone.

"No...you.. can't. You have already done enough." She was having trouble talking.

He measured her, up and down, almost mildly now.

"Did you drink that whole glass?"

"Stop trying to change the subject." She was still grasping his chest, wavering slightly.

"Tell me, Natasha. Where is the difference between SHIELD ordering you to take out a target for a mission, and deciding on your own to get rid of someone guilty."

"I.. what? How do you.. even decide that? What if they are innocent?" It wasn't fair to have this discussion while she was drunk.

"I know that this person is guilty, beyond a doubt. Your friends might even be thanking me for taking them out."

"You mean SHIELD? What are you talking about?"

"Yep. I'm doing you all a favor."

Natasha's head was dizzy. She dropped her hands from him and dragged one through her hair, letting her eyes fall to his chest.

He closed the distance to her, putting his bionic hand against the wall to the right of her. He looked down on her.

"Do you trust me?" It was a low rumble, she felt it coming from his chest.

She shook her head.

"No." Her world was spinning. "I don't know."

With his right hand he lifted her chin up, to make her look at him. She had to crane her neck, leaning her head back on the wall. His eyes were calm and serious. Was he telling her the truth? She didn't feel like he was lying to her.

It was difficult for her to think. An intense fatigue was settling into her body.

"You are going to leave me here tonight. Alone?" She asked him, her voice breaking from tiredness

"Yeah." He nodded.

"What if I go to SHIELD?" She whispered.

He half smiled at her. She was barely able to hold herself up.

"I don't think you are."

Her head felt heavy and so did the rest of her body. Somewhere in her mind she registered that he was probably right. She wasn't going anywhere tonight. She had drunk entirely too much and couldn't even stand up anymore.

He grasped her under her arm, then lifted up her legs with the other. She wrapped her arms around his neck, while he walked her to the bedroom and lowered her on the bed and covered her up. She managed to kick off her shirt and leggings before she fell into a deep sleep.

000

It was early morning, just before dawn, when he returned. He was trying to be quiet to not wake her up, but she heard him anyway. She lazily squinted her eyes open in the half darkness, tired from having her sleep interrupted. Her head still felt heavy, but her buzz had worn off long ago.

She stirred slightly and adjusted her legs. She was lying on her side, with her bare back to him, not being able to see what he was doing. He must have removed most of his uniform again and was taking the rest quietly off, hearing the shuffle of fabric sliding down onto the floor.

He lifted the cover and laid beside her, his weight making the mattress sink deep. He knew she wasn't asleep and she could hear his even breath behind her. Her eyelids grew heavy again. Then suddenly she could smell him, all sweaty and musky and something else. A faint smell of gunpowder.. and blood.

She rolled onto her back, squinting over to him. He looked at her when she moved.

"Are you hurt?" Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

"No." He answered quietly.

He was looking at her face, then his eyes wandered down. The cover had pulled down from her chest and she was just wearing her bra. She was too tired to care.

"Where have you been?" She sounded so sleepy.

"I will tell you later." He rumbled quietly.

She was silent for a while, trying to think what he had said before he had left. Digging through the foggy memories of her drunk conversation with him.

"Was it someone I know?"

"No. We'll talk in the morning."

She rolled back on her left side with a small frown, sticking a knee out to keep her balance. He laid behind her, putting his warm arm around her waist. His bare chest was pressing into her. She didn't mind. Her eyes were falling shut again.

* * *

**Things just can't be easy between them, but it'll get better. I kind of like where they are right now, it's been a long process. The scene where Bucky drinks the vodka has got to be ones of my favorite ones, so far.**

**And to agree with a couple people, my Bucky doesn't revert back to being a nice guy that quickly, like in other fan fics. The Winter Soldier will always be a part of him. And that makes him so interesting, imo.  
**

**Thanks to all my repeat reviewers, you all make my day :)**

**I had a small mishap with posting the wrong chapter while fixing a typo, should be fixed again.**


	21. Like The Back Of Her Hand

**Warning: M rated content in this chapter.**

* * *

She sat quietly on the couch in her living room, staring at her coffee table, her legs drawn up to her body. In front of her was a laptop. It had appeared over night. Wherever Barnes had gone for several hours, he had stolen this machine from someone.

_The owner is probably not missing it anymore._

She ran her fingers along the smooth, grey top. It was a used HP, a model from just a year or two ago. With a soft click she opened up the cover and it blinked to life. Her eyes immediately went to the yellow sticky note on the keyboard. Someone had hastily scribbled several long numbers on it.

_Passwords._

She unconsciously cracked her knuckles, first on her right hand, then her left. She was in her element. A login screen was greeting her, prompting her to enter one. She tried the first, and to her surprise it actually worked, the admin account was logging in, a progress bar taking her right into the main OS. Long file structures filled the screen. She had seen something similar before, on Barnes' first machine. Her hands on the keyboard were navigating through the folders with high speed and with growing interest.

_This was another piece of the Hydra puzzle._

She didn't find anything new right away. A lot of the content was non vital information and she had seen it before in the leak. Maybe if she dug deeper, she could find some dirty secrets.

_When he had told her she couldn't trust her own people, she thought he had meant SHIELD._

If she had to take a wild guess now, it sounded like he had figured out a secret Hydra agent, posing as SHIELD. How the hell he had done it, she had no idea. There had been a tension in her, ever since he had left for his mission. It was now leaving her. A small relief, if all of this was true.

It was late morning and he was still sleeping. She had sneaked out the bedroom just earlier, trying to find some peace on her couch. Pounding headaches had been bothering her and she had been hung over. An aspirin and a couple glasses of water later, she felt somewhat better.

She didn't know if he approved of her touching his laptop. Then again, he didn't have to know. Obviously there was another use for it, but she was nervous. With a few shortcuts she brought up the secondary OS and looked at the top right corner of the screen. The wifi signal was searching. It immediately picked up on the hotspot in her house, she only had to enter the password, then it was connected. She had internet.

She inhaled sharply and froze.

Her hands were hovering over the keyboard. This was her opportunity to write a message to SHIELD.

_What am I waiting for?_

She had written imaginary messages in her head a few hundred times over, during her time with James Barnes. All starting with requests for backup and her location. Never once had she been able to actually send one off.

Now that she could, she was hesitating.

_What had changed?_

Too many thoughts at once were clouding her mind. First off, what should she write? And to who? She had been told that Nick Fury was gone, and Maria Hill was in his place. She didn't feel comfortable writing to her, as ridiculous as that sounded. Maria getting her hands on Barnes was the last thing she wanted. The thought of an SHIELD army clashing with Barnes made her heart skip a beat.

She didn't want either side to take losses.

She didn't want to lose _him_. Not in a hail of bullets.

Then who else did she trust in this matter? Banner, Stark, Barton? None of the Avengers Initiative were a good pick. Except one of course.

Rogers.

Wasn't he the obvious choice? Maybe not so. There was a huge emotional involvement for Steve in this. She had found Barnes before Steve had. Barnes hadn't mentioned him once yet, and she hadn't either, out of an absurd fear. Barnes was _not_ Bucky. He simply wasn't. Natasha had her own version of history with him, and he had always been the Winter Soldier in her eyes. And that seemed to be the dominant part for the moment, until she could work more on him. She wasn't sure how Steve would take this.

Should she, out of all forms of communication, _email _him over this highly sensitive topic?

_Hi Steve, your former best friend, who almost ended your life and mine, has kidnapped me, but instead of escaping I'm almost supporting him now, despite his murderous past. And by the way, we slept with each other, just like we did back then, in Russia. I suppose you can never fully trust a former russian spy._

Yeah right.

She pressed a hand over her eyes and rubbed them so hard, she was seeing blinking lights.

They could _never_ know about them. Some of the higher ranking SHIELD officials, like Nick, were aware that she had trained under the Winter Soldier, but nobody knew of their former relationship. She herself had suppressed that for so long, she hadn't believed it herself.

There was a different message she could send, that didn't include any of that. She could simply write him that she was safe and not mention Barnes. She grimaced ‒ she wasn't even sure if he ever checked his email inbox. Natasha rolled her eyes. But there was an almost 100% chance that his ingoing email was being intercepted and Maria would get it on her desk before he did. They might come barging into her house to check for her. She gritted her teeth.

She logged back out of the secondary OS, interrupting the internet connection.

There would be time later to decide what to do.

000

Breakfast would have to be cereal and coffee again, they were about the only things left. She took one of the old newspapers that Barnes had read and sat down with a fresh cup. A loose site fell on the table, the other half had been ripped out. He had done this, taken an article. She furrowed her forehead and picked up the loose page, but couldn't find anything significant about it.

_Strange. Was that part of his "errand"?_

The paper and breakfast couldn't hold her attention and she started pacing through her house. She almost wanted him to get up now to start asking him question, but she tried to be patient. She was jittery, and wasn't able to jog with her ankle.

_Whatever._

She strode down the hallway to her laundry room, ripped her hoodie from the dryer, put her boots on, and walked out of the door. Her ankle was complaining quietly. _Fine_, she'd just walk instead. She pulled the hood deep over her face and started walking up the street in a fast pace. There weren't a lot of people out, which was good. She was planning to walk around her block a couple times.

An hour and about 5 miles later she arrived back at her door. Her legs were burning a little from all the hill climbing, a good feeling. Her house was quiet and she walked straight into her bathroom. It was damp from having been used. That meant Barnes was up. She went ahead with her shower anyway, before seeking him out.

000

Shampoo was burning her eyes, she'd somehow gotten it into them. Maybe she should have rinsed her hair about five minutes ago, but she had simply zoned out, thinking about last night. She was extremely curious to hear what he had to say. Her initial fear at seeing him back on a mission had subsided some, after it became clear that he wasn't dragging her into it.

Or maybe she was a part of it anyway, if she wanted or not.

She held her head under the shower and washed out the soap, then quickly cleaned the rest of her body with a wash cloth, and stepped out of the tub. Some of her bruises were finally starting to fade, she saw in the mirror. Bloodshot, empty green eyes were looking back at her, as she was scanning her face. It was still in various shades of violet and yellow. Same with her stomach, arms and thighs. She brushed a few stray hairs out of her face and noticed again the dark stitches on her right arm. The cut from the broken window. That had been so long ago, they would need to come out. She picked at them for a bit, but she wasn't as coordinated in her left hand. She'd worry about it later.

Her clothes were in a pile on the floor and Natasha got dressed in something comfortable again, a tank top and her long running pants. She blow dried her hair, turning it into a mess, then got out the flat iron. She had just started straightening the first strands when the door opened.

Barnes walked in, dressed in jeans and t-shirt again.

"Morning." He rumbled, glancing at her. He looked more tired than usual and his eyes were pale and serious. His dark hair hung tousled around his shoulders, touching the dark grey fabric of his shirt. A dark shade of small stubble around his chin and mouth.

"You ever heard of knocking?" She shot him a glance, while pulling the iron down on a strand above her right ear. Her voice was husky from not having used it in a while.

"You'll survive." He retorted, stepping next to her and turning towards the mirror. She took a step to the side to have more room. He took her tooth brush and started squeezing toothpaste on it.

"And _that_ is not ok either." She said more sharply. "I could have given you a new one."

He gave her a quick glance, but ignored her remark and started brushing his teeth.

She was quietly watching him in the mirror from the corner of her eyes. Despite his usual silence, he seemed more relaxed somehow than yesterday, she noticed. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

"I saw the new laptop. You said you would tell me what happened last night." She talked to his reflection in the mirror.

He only raised an eyebrow, not going to answer with a toothbrush in his mouth. She started straightening the left side of her head in silence.

He spit out into the sink and rinsed his mouth. Then turned around to her, leaning against the vanity right next to her and crossed his arms, watching her work. Her hands ran the iron all the way down a straight red strand, the hair softly falling into her face, before she tucked it behind her ear.

"How are you feeling this morning?" He asked, a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

She sighed. Of course he would ignore her previous question.

"Not as bad as you think. I can handle it just fine." She was aware that she had drunk too much the previous night. It had been so bad, that he had to carry her to bed.

She continued. "It wouldn't have been so much, if you had come out on the porch, like I told you to." She immediately bit her tongue. That had come across a bit desperate. One corner of his mouth went up in response, but his eyes stayed serious.

"Maybe tonight." He almost said it apologetically. He raised his eyebrows before continuing. "How's the foot?"

She blinked at him, being curious herself.

"I don't know."

She dropped her hands to lie down the iron, then raised her left foot slowly onto the vanity. She wanted a closer look as well, pulling up her pant leg to expose it. An angry blue and purple sight greeted her, just over and directly on her outer ankle joint. The color spread in different directions, making it look worse than it actually was painful.

He shifted around closer to her to get a better look, then carefully put a hand on her injured ankle, tracing the leftover swollen parts. It made her skin tingle, she almost wanted to pull away.

"Where does it hurt the most?" He rumbled, looking concentrated at the joint.

She felt around herself with her fingertips, balancing on her right leg, as he held her other foot tight.

"Right here. But it's already better than yesterday."

He brushed his thumb over the worst spot, then with more pressure, trying to feel for something. She bit her teeth together under the dull pain. It was nothing compared to other injuries she's had in her life, but he was taking it so seriously. Almost as if it was his responsibility.

He dropped his hand and met her eyes.

"Good. You should ice it again today."

"Mhm." She pulled her pant leg down again and lowered her foot back to the ground. She didn't need him to tell her that.

"And don't run on it, like earlier."

Now he sounded lecturing, she rolled her eyes.

"I only walked in the neighborhood, so don't even start. Sitting around with nothing to do drives me crazy. I'd rather go to work or do _something _than stay inside all day." She was rambling in her defense and picked up the flat iron again.

He just shrugged. "Neither is good before it's healed."

She didn't answer him and only focused on finishing her hair. He did seem different from yesterday, she thought again. Calmer. As if he had actually thought over all the things she had told him. Yesterday had been an up and down of emotions for the both of them. But she was seeing change in him.

She was noticing something else.

He seemed to care for her more than she had initially thought, but it was often hard to tell with his mostly blank exterior. They were both rather good at guarding their feelings. Having it ingrained by a place that encouraged that behavior.

He was studying her in a not so subtle way, standing in front of her within arm's reach. His gaze went down on her, then up again, over her pants and flimsy tank top. She could see him look at every single visible scar and bruise with an unreadable expression.

The scene at her front door with her neighbor jumped into her mind. _Boyfriend_, she had called him. Laughable, but it somehow made her grin. A mental image of them formed in her mind. She sighed, finishing her last strand of hair.

"You know, Barnes." She spoke up, while dropping her hands and unplugging the flat iron. "I can't blame my neighbor for what she said yesterday. I probably do look like your battered, little girlfriend." Her voice dripping in sarcasm.

He gave a short laugh at that, his eyes crinkled. Her own mouth curled into a smile, while putting the iron back into a drawer.

She stood up straight again and ran a hand through her hair, untangling the last bits. Him being close didn't bother her for once. They had fallen into a strange dynamic of sleeping pressed into each other, but staying on guard during the day.

_Isn't that what she always did though, with every man?_

She dropped her hands and pressed them into her sides. "Weren't you going to tell me what happened last night?"

The half smile on his face and the little glint had vanished again, it dropped back into a blank expression.

"Yep. In the car." He answered neutrally.

She froze. His words hung heavy in the air. She hadn't expected anything involving the car. She tried to read his face, but it was impossible. Worry crept into her stomach.

"Where are we going?" She asked cautiously.

"Didn't you say you needed groceries?"

She almost gaped at him.

"Are you saying.. _we are going to buy groceries_?"

"Yep." He pushed himself from the vanity, then quickly bent down and pressed his lips on hers, before she could protest. "Get ready." He walked out of the bathroom.

She looked after him, stunned, and licked her lips. She could taste him and remnants of his toothpaste.

He had listened to her request, for once.

000

A thin layer of foundation had taken care of the bruises on her face. She was looking like her normal self again, when she walked into the kitchen. All that stood out was the cut on her lip, but that wasn't a big deal.

He had his back to her, bent over at something on the countertop. His shirt had pulled up and her Glock was sticking halfway out of his waistband.

She approached him slowly, her eyes never leaving the gun. Of course he knew that she was there, but he wasn't turning around. She stepped next to him, to his left side. She never reached for it, only watched what he was doing. He was counting her money that he had found on the dresser.

"I don't think you will need the gun." She prodded him with a soft voice, knowing it was futile. She would wear her guns just the same, if it weren't for him. The difference was, she had a legal concealed carry permit.

He didn't respond.

"At least hide it better." She reached over and pulled his shirt over it. He shot an unreadable glance at her.

She guessed they were really going to do this. Going out into public. The thought was strange and sent pangs of worry through her. She wouldn't be able to talk him out of it, she knew that. But on the other hand, it was better than sitting here. What bothered her was, what would happen if someone recognized either of them? It was her face that had gotten more coverage on tv, she was the liability.

She measured him up and down, he would blend in just fine, she thought, except...

"What are you doing about this?" She touched his bionic arm, something she rarely dared to do. It sent a nervous flutter into her stomach.

"I have a jacket." He said in a low voice. "Let's go."

000

She was navigating him to a small, further away grocery store, in their stolen black Hydra Jeep. Something with not too many cameras or people. And truthfully, while driving, he had explained what he had done the previous night.

"I found an article in one of your newspapers. It was a small snipped about some SHIELD event or another, just one of the many. It had a photo above it. And I recognized one of the agents on it. At first I couldn't remember clearly, but it came to me later. I had seen that person in one of the Hydra labs before."

Barnes paused. When he spoke again his voice sounded a shade darker.

"He had some involvement in this." He lifted his bionic arm, shooting Natasha a glance. "They kept upgrading my arm with stolen information from SHIELD labs."

"Who was it?" She asked him quietly. It was as she had guessed, he had found a Hydra spy.

He dropped his hand back on the steering wheel to drive a turn.

"You wouldn't know him." He answered short tempered. "But he worked as a scientist for Stark."

"A Hydra agent? Spying in Stark Industries?" Her mouth stood open.

"Haven't you done the same?" He rumbled, referring to an older assignment of her.

"That was different." Her voice sharp. "Is that why you were asking for a phone book? How did you find him?"

He gave an empty laugh.

"Natasha. You and I have found people long before internet and modern phone books." A corner of his mouth pulled into a grin. "I paid him a visit. He was quite surprised to see me again. But he was all too eager to give me his laptop and whatever else I needed, if I didn't kill his family."

She exhaled sharply. His family? She grasped the door handle on the passenger side hard, her knuckles turning white, it was hurting her hand.

"And… did you?"

_Please don't. He had said he wouldn't._

"No, I didn't harm them. Can't say the same for him though." He was talking so calmly as if they were chatting about the weather. And she thought he had started developing a conscious.

_But it was Hydra. A spy for Hydra. In a twisted way he had done SHIELD a favor._

They drove in silence, except for her quiet navigation, until they arrived at the store that Natasha had picked out.

000

She could barely concentrate on what she was buying, the whole situation was striking her as bizarre. He walked in a small distance behind her, keeping his arm in a pocket of his jacket. There had been a baseball cap in the car that he had put on. Not that it was really necessary, he looked like a regular guy.

She caught herself watching him every now and then, when he picked something randomly from the shelves. He was inspecting a can, his hair concealing his face, a neutral expression on it.

_He looked like a regular guy... but there was something about him... he would be handsome in another life.._

She groaned at herself and rolled her eyes. But she couldn't deny it. She saw some of the glances other women were throwing him, while they strolled down the aisle. If only they knew it was all a facade.

Natasha had put her red hair into a messy bun and pulled up her hood. The fiery red color was sometimes a problem when she wanted to be undercover, but she refused to change it.

She was grasping for random things left and right while pushing the little cart, in a hurry to get done. Being here with Barnes was not putting her at ease. He just seemed completely out of place.

There hadn't been a sound coming from behind for a while and his boots were usually quite loud. She whirled around. He was gone.

Sweat was breaking out on her forehead, she traced back to the previous aisle. It was empty. Then the one before. He was standing in the candy section out of all things, holding something in his hands. She walked up next to him.

"What are you doing?" She whispered. Not sure why she was saying it quietly, as if anyone could see who they really were otherwise. He was holding a yellow package of M&Ms.

"I remember those." He was staring at the candy pack. "They had them at base. In Germany."

She didn't want him to have an episode of any kind now.

"Ok. We'll buy them. Come on." She snatched them out of his hands and dropped them in the cart, then grasped him by his arm, dragging him with her.

She's had enough food in her cart to last for a while and took him straight to the registers. He followed her wordlessly.

"Hi, how are you?" A bright, smiling girl greeted her, while Natasha started loading the contents of her cart onto the belt. She was all young, blonde and bubbly, probably fresh out of high school.

"Good. Thanks." She kept her face down. She knew it was rude, but that was how things were, now that she was a public figure. Not Barnes. He was looking at everyone and everything, his hair constantly falling into his face. He had noticed how uncomfortable she was and his mouth was pulled into a small grin. He helped her load some things up, while keeping his left arm out of sight.

"Good. How're you, miss?" He rumbled suddenly. Natasha's eyes almost bulged out of her head.

"Very good, thank you! Today's been so busy." The girl was beaming at him while scanning everything. Barnes grinned at her.

Natasha wasn't sure who she wanted to punch in the face first, curling her hands into fists. She had warned him in the car to _not _engage with people.

"So what are you all up to today?" The girl was trying to engage them, mostly him though.

"Oh, not much." He answered still grinning. He loved how uncomfortable it made Natasha.

"That's nice, I wish I had a day off." She scanned the last items, then turned to Natasha.

"That'll be $135.68." The girl was smiling at her now, but still shooting glances at Barnes. Natasha all but slammed the cash on the counter. As soon as she had the change, she was dragging him out of there.

She was finally able to somewhat relax again, once they were back in the car, the groceries on the back seat. She had no idea that it would turn out so stressful. Barnes seemed to have no worry in the world, throwing his hat back on the dashboard.

"We should do that again." He glanced at her grinning, then backed out the car. Both his hands on the steering wheel again.

"I told you not to talk to anyone." She snapped at him.

He laughed. "It didn't hurt."

She rolled her eyes at him. He was putting them into a dangerous situation if he acted like that. She tried to rectify her anger.

_Be honest, you just didn't like how he had smiled at that girl._

000

Their long ride home was quiet, both of them sunken into their own thoughts. Had she really been a little jealous, like a damn child? She didn't allow herself petty emotions like that, but then why had she been so angry. She forced herself to not think of him like that.

They slowly turned into their street and Natasha saw it before he did.

"Pull over. Right now." She grabbed for the steering wheel, but he was fully alert now himself. The car came to a stop by the curb.

Her house was in the distance, on the other end of the road, but she saw them quite clearly. Two police officers were standing at her front door, their cruiser parked at her curb.

"That... goddamn... old hag." She stammered under her breath.

She peaked over to Barnes, he hadn't said anything yet and was staring concentrated out of the windshield. He was getting angry, she could feel it. When he turned to her, his eyes were dark and deadly, his friendly facade from the supermarket had completely vanished.

"You want to explain that?" He asked her in a low growl.

"It's my freaking neighbor. She called them, that's what she usually does." She said hastily. "If it's a domestic disturbance call, they have to check up on those."

Barnes looked back out of the windshield, gripping the steering wheel hard.

"Let's just wait it out." She leaned back in her seat, deceptively calm. Her heart was going a hundred miles an hour.

They sat in silence for 30 minutes. The officers had gone back to their car, but not left yet. They seemed to be waiting as well. Seeing them here had caused panic in her, instead of relief. She was not going to let Barnes loose on them.

He was stirring next to her. He leaned forward slightly, his hand going to his back, pulling out the Glock.

"What the hell are you doing?" She immediately grasped for him, putting a hand on his arm.

"It's only two." He wasn't looking at her.

"You are _not_ going out there."

"They are not going to go away." He sounded calm. As if he had made up his mind.

"You are not killing police officers. Are you out of your mind?" Was she really asking him that? Of course he was. She would have to intervene. "I'll talk to them."

Her hand went to the door handle. Now he was grabbing for her arm, loosely pointing the gun in her direction.

"And what are you going to tell them?" He had said it mildly, but she could hear the deadly warning in it.

"I'm going to send them away." She met his eyes. He was trying to see if she was telling him the truth. She continued. "Do you trust me, like I'm supposed to trust you?" Her eyes were wide and honest, a sheen of panic in them.

He stared at her for a moment longer.

"You have ten minutes."

000

She was talking to both police officers in her doorway. They were calling her by her fake identity name.

_Sloppy background research._

They seemed friendly, but almost bored at the same time. Apparently they didn't take her neighbor's calls 100% serious either. She noticed them scanning her face, but the makeup was doing a good job hiding everything.

"Can we take a look inside, miss?" The older one asked her. It was a standard procedure.

"Sure." Natasha sighed. She had to try her hardest to not look down the road to their black car. In her head she was rattling down anything that could look suspicious in her house, but nothing came to her.

They only stepped as far as the end of the hallway.

"And you were saying that you live alone?" The younger asked her.

"Yeah. Look. My neighbor isn't all right in the head and she has a grudge against me over god knows why. She loves to spin up stories about everyone. Nothing happened to me, and I'm fine." She took a deep breath. "Can I help you with anything else?"

The officers looked at each other.

"No, miss. We are good here." They started to leave, but the older one turned around at the door and looked at her friendly, almost patronizing.

"If you need help with anything. Give me a call." He gave her his card.

"Ok. Thanks." She took it, then closed the door. Breathing a sigh of relief.

000

By the time he had rolled up to the house and they had brought in all groceries, it was evening. The trip had been a long one and she was exhausted from the tension of dealing with him and the police. They hadn't talked much at all after that incident. He had only looked at her darkly and cornered her against a wall.

"Will they come back later with backup?" The deadliness hadn't all left his voice yet.

"No. I told you I would handle it." She answered angrily and tried pushing him away.

"Are you lying to me?"

She looked at his serious expression and sighed.

"No." Her voice calmer.

It took a moment, but something in him changed, she could tell. Almost something like a recognition crept in his face. He believed her. He stepped backward, letting her go on to work in the kitchen, while he wordlessly walked back into the garage.

She was hungry and didn't feel at all like cooking and instead threw a frozen pizza into the oven. Why was she putting up with his difficult moods so much? She couldn't exactly answer herself. But she was starting to understand how to deal with them.

He had stayed in the garage with the car, busying himself with something, while she sorted her groceries, putting everything up until the oven beeped.

"Pizza is done. Come eat." She yelled loudly down the hall, cutting it in slices.

_You said you never wanted to be a housewife. _She rolled her eyes.

He emerged from the doorway to the garage down the hall and joined her. There was still something on his mind, she could tell. He had taken off his jacket and boots again, walking barefoot. They ate the pizza in silence.

The police incident had caused a strange tension between them. She had asked him to trust her over it, and she had once again, covered for him. Did she feel such a strong connection to him to keep doing that? In order to help him stray from his murderous path? Or to help herself to work up her past?

Maybe for a whole nother reason after all.

She had opened her bun, letting her hair spill down her shoulders. Barnes kept staring at her from the corner of his eyes. She should be used to him doing that, by this point, but she grew annoyed by his weird behavior.

"What is it?" She snapped at him. It hadn't been meant to sound mean, but sometimes things came out like that.

"I want to show you something." His voice steady, neutral, as he was leaning on the counter.

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

"You'll see."

She ate her last bit and wiped her hands on a paper towel. A weird sensation spreading in her stomach. She didn't like when he was being secretive. That happened way too often.

He dropped whatever pizza he had left and took her by the arm, not unkind, but firmly. The weird sensation in her stomach turned into nervousness and she turned rigid as he dragged her into the garage. He was pressing her close into his side. They stopped in front of the trunk of his car. He leaned over and snapped it open, the trunk door slowly rising up. Inside it was dirty blanket, covering something up, several long items. Her heart rate picked up.

He lifted the blanket away with a quick motion. Her eyes went wide and she had to swallow.

His trunk contained several guns, big and small. She noticed a Glock 20 and a Smith & Wesson, assault rifles, Kalashnikovs among those, machine guns, a shotgun and a sniper rifle. Even a goddamn grenade launcher.

"Are you going to fucking war or something?" She gasped.

She stood pressed into his side, feeling his body heat and something like concealed excitement on him. He didn't respond, only stood straight, as she put her hands on the rim of the trunk to bent down, taking a closer look. It was an impressive collection. She had no idea where he had gotten it all, maybe from the dead Hydra agent. She recognized most models and makes immediately, was trained and had worked with all of them before at some point in time. Here and in Russia. She could even point out most of _his _favorites.

Her curiosity was too great and she stuck a hand out grasping for one, then froze and looked up at him.

"Take it." His eyes were piercing her, concentrated, not missing a single reaction on her.

She slowly took out the modern make AK-47. She had worked with older Kalashnikov models, but not much was different. The weight in her hands felt familiar. She laid it into her right shoulder, it fell right into place like an old, worn in, favorite piece of clothing, molding into her body at once. She took aim, brushing her soft cheek onto the cold metal to look over the sight. She pointed it at nothing particular to her right side, away from Barnes. The stance came naturally to her, she knew it like the back of her hand, like the sharp clicking sound of a safety turning off. She exhaled slowly, all of her nerves going calm, her mind turning blank, narrowing her eyes. Her red hair fell lazily down to her side. It was the stance of a trained shooter, who had held a weapon thousands of times.

It was almost like falling into a form of meditation. A serene blanket lowered down over her body and her breathing steadied. Her heart rate went down. She would be able to shoot a moving target up to 300 yards away with precision, despite this not being the most precise gun.

She was trained to kill up close, intimately, but holding a larger weapon had a similar effect compared to slipping a knife into someones neck. She did it with utmost concentration, her face neutral, her body rigid, her hands lethal.

He was watching her.

She broke her concentration and lowered the gun again, then looked at him. Why was he allowing her to hold a weapon after all this time? Did he trust her that much? He must be, since she wasn't going to aim it at him.

_Do you realize what is happening here?_

She had a weapon and wasn't aiming it at him. It might not even have bullets in the clip, she wasn't sure. Maybe it was a test.

"Why are you showing me this?" Her voice was husky, her green eyes piercing him back. She was still holding the rifle, pointed at the floor.

He took her arm, carefully, and turned her fully towards him, then pulled her even closer, wrapping his hands around her waist. She had to crane her neck to look up to him, the air in the garage suddenly seemed stuffy. They were standing so close, she shuffled the gun to her side, carefully avoiding to point it at either of them.

_What the hell was he doing?_

A serious look was on his face, along with a small knowing smile. He lowered his forehead on hers and she could feel his breath hitting her face, it was making her legs weak. Her pulse was quickening and she turned her head to his side, away from his mouth. But his hand was suddenly in her hair, guiding her face to his, pressing his lips on her. She noticed in the back of her mind that she was missing his long stubbles. Her mouth opened for him and their tongues met, sending a rush of butterflies down her stomach, her nerves were tingling under the sudden sensation. She kissed him back, wanting to hold onto his hard body but her hands were annoyingly holding the rifle, she couldn't use them. He had gripped her tightly and wasn't letting her go.

His tongue was filling out her mouth and her breath was going heavy, as she adjusted her head to kiss him at a different angle. She pushed her own tongue against him, giving him some resistance. It only made him groan and grab her harder, leaving deep prints on her waist. A heat went rushing down between her legs, making her feel warm and weak. He slowly removed his tongue and sucked softly on her lower lip.

She was still confused, he was making it difficult to think for her.

"What‒" She started to say. His mouth left hers and it brushed against her ear.

"This could be you and me. Again." He was whispering.

_What was he talking about?_

She pulled back slightly, her hands were sweaty around the gun. Their eyes met. He was looking at her with steely expression, but it was soft for her at the same time.

"You and me?" She repeated.

He nodded slowly.

She slowly realized what he was talking about. Purposely showing her the weapons she had grown up with, had trained her on for many years. Weapons they had both used and knew in and out. Every little screw and part, she knew how to take them apart and build them back together. He had shown her that. Back during their training and first missions.

_You and me, like back then. In Russia._

She shook her head. "No, James." She whispered.

He was still grasping her and it felt claustrophobic now. She couldn't breath.

"Let me go."

He stared at her for a moment longer, his eyes looked almost hurt, then he dropped his hands. She shakily sat the gun on the ground, leaning it against the back of the car. Then took a step back.

"No." She said under her breath.

She turned and walked out as quickly as she could. He didn't follow her.

000

Cold evening air was causing goosebumps on her arms. She didn't even notice them. She wasn't seeing or feeling anything around her.

_You and me. _

She knew what he was doing, or thought she did. Trying to turn her into something that she wasn't anymore. His intentions were extremely confusing to her and it was going in a dangerous direction. What was he planning to do with a trunk full of weapons? She was almost regretting now to let the police leave, without telling them about him.

She was sitting by herself on the porch, not wanting to run across him. She could still run away, out into the neighborhood and confide to someone. Right now.

But she stayed, leaning back in her chair, with her left foot on the railing. It was a calm, quiet night again, similar to yesterday. Nobody else was out on her street, and the last bits of sun were fading on the horizon. Darkness settled onto her, and into her mind.

She sat quietly by herself for a long time.

She had felt an exhilarating rush from holding the rifle and then again immediately following his passionate kiss. It had conjured up something long lost and forgotten in her. A faint memory, but not anything bad, rather the opposite. She had felt in control again, the weapon had given her back a bit of power and along with it a sense of pride and confidence.

_There was blood on her hands._

Shrouded in the darkness of the night, she knew deep down what and who she really was, despite the SHIELD ID that was hopefully waiting for her in her office. And so did he and he was trying to pull it out into daylight.

_She would never hurt anyone innocent again._

She let her mind go blank.

000

The front door opened and he walked out, not in a hurry. He strolled next to her foot on the railing and turned towards her, leaning back. His body was pressing into her leg, but she refused to move it. In the moonlit darkness it was hard to make out, but he was holding something in his hand.

He held it towards her. A glass half full with something. She guessed it was her vodka.

"I told you, tonight we share it." He said quietly.

She gazed at his dark features, trying to find his face, not being able to see it well. Then she leaned forward, taking the glass and sipped slowly, sinking back into her chair.

She was playing with fire here. A loaded gun.

There was a silence between them. Not knowing what to say. She realized, what he had done in the garage was to truly open up to her for the first time. It had been an even more intimate bonding than the first time they had slept with each other, two nights ago.

The alcohol numbed her current tension, taking the edge off. She needed it. A question was on her mind. One she had asked him before, many times. She had gotten different answers, but never the truth. She would ask him again.

"What do you want from me?" Her voice was a hoarse whisper, carrying the weight of everything they had been through.

He shifted slightly in front of her. She was trying to find his eyes in the darkness, but there were only black holes, his hair covering his face in shadows.

"I want you. By my side." He said quietly.

She should have known it. Probably did all along. His focus had shifted on her, to turn her back into his former partner.

The words were ringing in the air, in the darkness of this cold, hushed night. She took another sip and swallowed. Warmth spreading in her.

"I am not yours to take. I don't belong to you." Her answer was slow and serious, articulating every word.

He shifted his head, she could see it. Not accepting her reply.

"You want to belong to SHIELD instead?" He asked her, more sharply.

"And what if I do? If this is where I want to be. It's my fucking decision." She threw back at him, the vodka amplifying her emotions.

"Always the liar." He gave an empty laugh, not believing her.

She saw red at that. "You know what. Go to fucking hell." She threw the glass at him, which he easily dodged, it fell down beyond the porch shattering loudly.

"You know why you lie and manipulate so much? I taught you how. I taught you most of the things you know. I made you what you are today." He continued, antagonizing her.

She harshly pulled her leg from the railing and staggered up from her seat. Uncontrolled rage was flowing through her body, she curled her right fist.

"Fuck you." She said under her breath and without warning charged him, taking a swing at his face.

He blocked it too easily, then grabbed her body and drove her back into the wood paneling of the house front with a loud crash, her chair squeaking out of the way. He pinned her arms up in a hard grip, his bionic hand hurting her, being able to snap her wrists in the blink of an eye if he chose to.

He brought his mouth down to her ear.

"Remember when we played this game back then? You could never get enough." He spoke quietly while breathing hard, pressing closer into her.

She squirmed under him and tried to pull away.

"Stop touching me." She whispered, knowing exactly what he was talking about. The memory of that dream was making her legs weak.

"Are you sure you want me to? You and I both know what you are, deep down. I remember you begging for more." He shifted her wrists into his bionic hand and laid his right one on her waist. A jolt went through her.

"This version of me doesn't exist anymore." She gritted her teeth, his hair was falling into her face, a strand of it had caught in her mouth.

_I am a liar, a manipulator, an assassin._

"I'm seeing it all the time. How about stop deceiving yourself." His hand wandered up from her waist, over her ribcage, and stopped on her breast, cupping it firmly. She gasped, when his lips brushed the side of her neck.

"Go fuck yourself." She spat angrily, trying to squirm away, but her mind was swimming from vodka and his pressure on her. She had grown hot under him, involuntarily arching her back into him, feeling his hand squeezing her breast. He brought his mouth around, hovering over hers. She was gasping with her lips hanging open.

"I don't know, Natasha. Maybe I'll fuck you instead." His tongue was in her mouth, hot and heavy, she felt like she couldn't breath. He suddenly let go off her wrists and she flung them at his shirt, grasping him, pulling him closer. He was pushing her hard into the wall, she felt like she might crack a rib.

Something in her mind let loose, all the constant, guarded composure fell away. She let an almost animalistic desire take over her mind and body.

"Bastard." She whispered between kisses. Her hands ripped open the buttons on his jeans and she stuck a hand down in it, feeling him hard. He groaned, pushing his hips toward her.

He was ripping up her shirt over her head.

"Not out here." She snapped angrily, pulling him with her through the front door.

They didn't make it far, he hauled her to her couch, throwing her on it, then started ripping her clothes off until she laid naked in front of him. She took off his shirt in return, pulling his jeans and underwear down harshly, impatient. Not being able to wait any longer.

He positioned between her legs and pulled her roughly towards him. His aggressiveness was dirty and angry and incredibly exhilarating. He laid his warm hand on her exposed folds, making her flinch. His fingers finding and rubbing her sensitive spot, wetting her.

Bending down, he latched his mouth onto her right breast, rolling his tongue over her erect nipple until her breath was going in small gasps. His chest hovered right over her, as he traced his tongue over to her other breast, leaving a damp trail behind, giving her goosebumps. He looked up as his mouth closed around the her soft left mound, feeling his teeth grazing her skin. His eyes dark and full of lust.

Her pulse was going frantic as his solid thighs were pushing her own further apart, exposing her, pressing himself hard against her. She was lying flat with her back on the couch, when he started entering her little by little, filling her up. She threw her head back and arched her body, unable to suppress a moan. Her hands ran up both his arms, holding onto them.

She began to move her hips against him, gritting her teeth, going in a steady rhythm that she had picked, while he responded to it. Every thrust of his was making her gasp, both of them settling into a fast pace. He couldn't take his eyes of her plump mouth that was going in small, quick breaths. She turned her face back to him and looked him deep into his eyes, his guard removed. She saw pure hunger and desire for her. All emotions they kept hidden away so well laying open.

She bit her lower lip when she moved a hand down on herself to help her along. Squeezing her inner muscles as she approached her own climax, she made him groan in response. He took her faster and followed her into oblivion, collapsing on top of her. Breathing hard into her drenched, wet hair. She reached up to him, running her hands through his own tousled dark strands, pressing her eyes shut.

They held onto each other, while their heart rates came back down, the adrenaline leaving their bodies.

How could she resist him? Her anger was long gone, replaced by another raw emotion in her heart, had seen it him too.

He nestled his face into her neck, pressing his lips onto her, breathing deeply. She let her mind go blank, only to enjoy the afterglow of their combined frenzy. His smell was intoxicating to her and she was drinking it in, conjuring up a comforting feeling.

He shifted around on top of her, clearing his throat.

"Ready for bed? Or would you like to waste more vodka first?" He rumbled beside her ear.

She licked her lips, still coming down from her high of released endorphins.

"You hadn't even had your share yet."

* * *

**I am DYING to know what you all think.**

**This chapter turned out to be extremely long, and there is A LOT going on, but I didn't want to divide it up. It has more impact that way, imo. There is some fluff that I could have cut out, but I kept it all in, hope you enjoy either way.**

**It practically wrote itself and I have to admit I keep getting inspired by other awesome fan fics around.**

**To answer a question for LadyLazarus: I might be planning to bring Steve in. But this fic really just deals with Nat and Bucky, the other Avengers don't interest me that much.**

**Thanks for all your support, everyone that reviews, fav'ed and followed!**


	22. The Sum Of Its Parts

Chapter 22 - The Sum Of Its Parts

* * *

Natasha drifted out of her sleep, shifting slightly in the comfort of her warm cover, her face pressed into her pillow and something else, hard and smooth. Her head was hurting in several places, feeling a dull ache in the back of it and a slow throbbing pain all over, clouding her thoughts. She blinked slowly, her eyes not being able to focus on what was right in front of her. It were just blurry shapes.

Her body felt incredible sore, almost like the morning after an intense mission, as if she had fought someone in close combat. She was laying on her right side, pressed into a warm body, her left leg at an uncomfortable angle, lying on something. Her left arm as well. She adjusted the leg and winced silently. Her hips and inner thighs were pulling painfully under the movement.

_Last night._

She blinked once more, trying to get her eyes to focus, but only seeing a grey shimmer up close and smelling a faint metallic scent, made stronger by her breath hitting it.

_His arm_.

He was lying next to her and hadn't left the bed early, like he usually did. His breath was going evenly somewhere above her and she could sense that he was awake.

She froze, lying completely still, mixed feelings rising in her. She couldn't face him, not after how last night had ended. She had been in some drunken, angry frenzy, completely letting her guard down and embarrassing herself.

The soreness all over her body stemming from him throwing and pinning her into a wall. And their rough encounter on her couch. Had she really acted like that? She wouldn't look up to him. Instead she lied still, trying not to move.

A minute passed, while her body was tense, her mind racing.

The air had been thick and charged the night before, filled with raw emotions from either side. She had been so furious at him, and he had antagonized her to the point of her taking a swing at him. And then everything had gone into a different direction. With her emotions running high on anger, adrenaline and vodka, his one sentence had driven her over the edge and she had gone along with his roughness, needing it as much as he had.

She pressed her eyes shut.

She had never seen him this forward and aggressive, and she didn't like her responsiveness to it. Under the cover of the darkness it had been easy to act out on it with him. Her face was getting warm and red just thinking about it.

He was suddenly shuffling next to her. Then she felt his hand under her shoulder. He hoisted her up and pulled her gently on top of him. She didn't resist. Her upper body came to rest on his, her arms and thighs pulling sorely under the movement, and more when her legs intertwined with his. She was only wearing a pair of panties, her breasts pressing into his hard rib cage, along with her cheek that was now resting in the middle of his chest. Her hair was spilling in all directions.

Natasha laid still, on top of him, slowly falling and rising with every breath he took. She unconsciously fell into the same rhythm.

"Morning." His voice quiet and hoarse, making his chest vibrate under her.

She exhaled slowly.

"Morning." Whispered under her breath.

He had laid his bionic arm around her, pressing his hand flatly into her lower back.

He had been so infuriating and arrogant the previous night, and he knew exactly how to make her angry, had done it on purpose. But then again, she had been all out insulting him. After their angry argument and explosive climax they had both been wiped out, not being able to continue their initial fight. He had offered to drink his part of the Stoli, since he had promised her, but she had only waved him off. She didn't need him coughing and miserable, all she had really wanted was to go to bed.

All in all, she wasn't regretting sleeping with him. What bothered her was, how it had come to that and the side it was bringing forward in her. It made her uncomfortable. Not wanting to explore the deeper connection they once shared.

They were not on the same side. She was SHIELD. And he was on his own agenda.

And despite his recent kindness to her, she had to remind herself that he was unstable and dangerous.

And still, she was willingly lying in his arms.

"Do you want to get up?" He whispered, the words getting lost in her red strands.

She didn't answer right away and stretched slightly, feeling the soreness in her body.

"Maybe."

He pressed his hand more tightly against her, while she relaxed her limbs on top of him. His breath was hitting her hair and she just listened to it for a while, watching the sun rise through gaps in the blinds.

He shifted under her, stretching his legs.

"I'll make breakfast." He still sounded slightly hoarse, talking in her direction.

She almost wanted to laugh out loud at that thought. Instead, she sensed he couldn't lie still anymore and wanted to get out of bed. With a sigh she straightened her arms to either side of him and slowly lifted herself up, her long hair gliding off of him. The cold air hit her bare upper body, producing goosebumps all over, her hair spilling almost down to her breasts. She came to a kneeling position next to him but couldn't look at his face. Instead she focussed her eyes on his abdomen and his hip bones just above his boxers.

There were scars everywhere, a lot of old ones, completely healed up and only leaving a raised line on his skin. Some newer looking ones, still a darker shade. And there was a fading bruise, she had seen it a week ago in the farmhouse, but it was only a light shade of violet now. Bullet projectile. Something tugged in her heart.

He put a hand on one of her thighs, resting it there.

"Turn your right arm to me." He said quietly.

She furrowed her brows, looking at him quickly from behind her red hair hanging down her face, then twisted the arm to him. He was inspecting her old wound from afar.

"I'll take the sutures out after we eat." His voice neutral and steady, the hoarseness gone.

He pressed his elbows into the mattress and leaned up to her, while she kept her eyes down on her lap. His hand wandered to her side, feeling heavy on her. He slowly lowered his head towards her collar bone, the one with the ugly scar from the exit wound. She looked to the side, his dark hair tickling right under her chin and neck, as his mouth brushed onto the old wound, kissing her skin. It made her heart flutter.

He pressed his face into her, and she was feeling his warm breath and the scratchiness of his returning stubble. His musky scent filling her nose. Somehow her right hand was suddenly in his tangled hair, running her fingers through it. She bit her lower lip, pressing her eyes shut under his warm touch. They held onto each other for a few moments.

With a quiet groan his lips left her shoulder again and he leaned back to sit straight. He squeezed her side lightly before dropping his hand and rolled out of bed, turning his back to her, picking up a shirt. It slid down his broad shoulders.

She knew if she said something about his own bruises and scars he would wave it off. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, she tried to remind herself. But why did she worry whenever she saw them?

"You? Can make breakfast?" She murmured instead and shifted herself to the edge of the bed, keeping her eyes cast down on her legs.

"Yep."

She knew he was grinning.

000

Barnes was standing in front of her stove, cracking eggs open over the pan, letting the yoke and eggwhite fall into the sizzling butter. She was rummaging in her fridge for the pack of bacon, finding it in one of the bottom drawers, and laid it out next to him on the countertop. He ripped it open and put a few strips next to the eggs. Coffee was already dripping through the machine, smelling entrancing to her tired brain.

Natasha stood back and watched him. He was working so concentrated again, despite doing something as silly as scrambling eggs. She hadn't bothered to get fully dressed, wearing only a shirt that was falling over her panties. He had decided to wear his jeans and shirt. Music was softly playing from the radio in the background and the kitchen started to fill with a mouth watering smell that made her stomach rumble. She was still averting her eyes whenever he turned in her direction. She knew it was petty, but at the same time she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

He actually finished preparing the food, albeit a bit clumsily, burning the bacon on some parts, but she had to commend him. The plate in front of her looked delicious. She added extra salt, pepper and hot sauce onto her eggs, throwing him quick glances whenever his head was down, the dark hair covering his face.

"Where is all this coming from? Did you always know how to cook?" She asked him with a full mouth of scrambled eggs and not actually looking at him, which she knew was rude.

"Maybe." She heard him grinning again. He was picking at his eggs with his fork, bent over his plate.

"Well, you did a good job."

"I know."

She almost had to grin at his cockiness.

"You beat my cooking skills out of the water. I could probably teach myself more if I wanted to, the internet makes it really so easy. They have recipes all over YouTube." She was focusing on a random spot ahead, not turning to her right towards him.

He didn't reply to that.

_As if he knew what YouTube was. _

That made her think of Rogers again. Why did she get stuck with men that were completely clueless of modern pop culture? It didn't make for easy conversation.

She felt like she wanted to keep on rambling to not fall into an awkward silence, but didn't know what else to say. He never seemed to be bothered by the quiet anyway.

Instead, despite the warm wake up in bed, she felt nervousness about the previous night creeping into her stomach.

_They were not on the same side. No matter how they were feeling about each other._

_Where do we go from here?_

She kept her face neutral, but scenes from her couch started replaying in her mind. Forcefully, she made it go blank. Her expression followed, not letting anything show on her. She couldn't tell what he was doing next to her right arm, besides eating. He was more quiet than usual, if that was even possible.

They finished their meals in silence and she pushed herself away from the table, picking up their empty plates. She carried them to the dishwasher, loading all dirty dishes up. Then heard the patter of his bare feet.

"Go take a shower, I'll take care of your arm after." He said behind her.

_Did he ever say things that weren't a direct order? _It was annoying her suddenly.

She turned around and shot him an irritated glance, then left him alone in the kitchen.

000

Natasha sat freshly showered on her vanity with one leg drawn up, the other one dangling, twisting around towards the mirror to pick at the thread herself. This one would hurt, she thought grimacing. New skin had already grown rather well around the black, thin stitches. It was good that it healed so quickly, but it should've come out much earlier.

She didn't look up when he entered, instead rolled up the sleeve of her t-shirt for better access, while he started searching for her scissors and tweezers. After some shuffling in her medicine cabinet, he had found everything and stepped beside her, feeling the fabric of his jeans on her legs. She kept acting as if he wasn't there, keeping her eyes on her arm, while he stood right beside her. Waiting for something.

"**Natasha**." He said it with some force, making her flinch.

"_What?_" His tone irritated her. She narrowed her eyes and turned to him, staring at his chest.

"Are you going to look at me at some point today?"

He just couldn't leave it alone. She slowly rose her eyes, meeting his pale ones. He looked down at her, wisps of his dark hair hanging over his face, searching for a reaction or emotion on her face. Her heart hitched, but she held his gaze, no expression showing.

She raised her eyebrows, as if asking what he wanted from her, as if she was bored by him. He was only standing still, the instruments in his hands, not moving yet.

"Why are you acting like this?" He asked and she heard his confusion.

"Like what?" She shrugged her shoulders indifferently.

He narrowed his eyes and fell silent. She saw him slowly breath in and out, his eyes moving in between hers. He cocked his head slightly.

"Answer me this question." He paused. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?" He said it in a serious tone, obviously noticing that it was bothering her.

The scene from the night before came crashing into her mind. She saw him rolling his tongue slowly over her breast, his dark eyes piercing her. She blinked, making it go away.

"Why do you even ask?" She stuck her chin a bit higher. He knew exactly how much she had liked it.

"I want you to tell me."

"...Yes. I did." There was only a bit of reluctance in her voice, while her green eyes were piercing him. She wasn't going to pretend that he had forced himself on her. Instead, she was scared of what her eyes would reveal. That she had enjoyed that side of her a bit too much?

Her heartbeat quickened for a moment and Natasha's inner thighs contracted together. Those muscles had made him groan out loud. She had to look away.

Sleeping with him was confusing the hell out of her. Seduction was something she was trained to use to her advantage. But he wouldn't bend to her will like the many other men she had been with had. Instead of deceiving him, he was able to see too much of her real, messed up, self.

He gently put his bionic hand on her thigh, bending down to her.

"Then don't regret it."

"I'm not." She was still irritated.

He sighed and dropped the subject, turning her slightly until the old wound was directly in front of him.

"This has healed pretty well." He commented. "A bit too well."

"I know. Just get it over with."

He set the cold scissor on her skin, cutting the first knot and started pulling the tiny string out. She bit her teeth together. Why did anything involving her stitches always turn so emotional? It reminded her on the day he had sewed those very sutures into her arm, in that abandoned house he had been living in. She had cried in front of him, out of pain and exhaustion. What would anyone else say if they saw how her carefully constructed mask of indifference had crumbled in front of him as easily as that?

It was pathetic really. She clenched her jaw at a particular painful pull from his hands.

"So, what's the plan today?" Her voice low between her teeth, listening to his even breath under those concentrated eyes, as her skin was pinching tightly.

"What do _you _want to do?" He asked her neutrally.

"Are you serious?" She shifted her eyes to him.

"Yep."

What did she want to do? The question stunned her. She had not expected it and didn't know what to answer. She would like to go to the SHIELD headquarter, for starters and get some distance between them. But she had an idea that he wouldn't agree to that.

_I'm not bringing SHIELD into this just yet._

If she needed distance, why didn't she walk right into her garage and grab the first gun to point it at his face? But getting to his weapons was probably not as easy as she imagined. If she had to take a wild guess, he must have locked them away after she had rejected his partnership last night.

"I don't know." She murmured as reply.

And she really didn't. On a normal day she would be at the office or working or training otherwise. Whenever she wasn't assigned for a mission, she always felt an odd emptiness gnawing on her that never really left. She would rather sink her head into work, to make it go away. And she didn't have many other hobbies beyond that. Going to the gym was one of those things she did, but that wouldn't be wise with her healing ankle.

There was always his new HP he had stolen. She could easily pour some hours into it, but that would take a great deal of concentration.

"I could look through your laptop." She continued, looking past him now, following the tile pattern on her bathroom wall.

"Is that all you want to do?"

"Well, no. But you are not going to _let_ me do anything else."

He was silent for a moment. Finishing up his work, and pulling the last bits of thread out, he let his tools drop on the vanity. She twisted her head over, inspecting her arm. The little holes looked a bit raw, but it would heal quickly and wasn't of concern for her.

He started washing his hands, then turned his head to her, a corner of his mouth going up into a smile.

"I want to take you somewhere." He told her lightly. That got her attention. She whipped her head around.

"Oh yeah? Where?" Furrowing her eyebrows. Those words couldn't mean anything good.

"Out. You'll see." He turned off the sink and dried his hands. The bionic one was accidently pulling little threads out of her towel, when the joints of his fingers got stuck.

_Out, what did that even mean? The public? _She swallowed.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Don't worry, you'll like it." He turned fully to her, still smiling.

That wasn't what was worrying her, although that was part of it. Both of them in public was not safe, not for them _and_ for others. She lowered her head, gazing at him with a serious expression on her face.

"You and I cannot be seen together, it is too dangerous. Yesterday in the store was already bad enough, what if someone recognizes you? Or me, for that matter?"

What worried her the most was, what if he snapped somehow while being out?

"We can blend in." He cocked his head, his expression turning neutral again. He wasn't listening to her. "I know you are good at that."

She sighed audibly, and moved off the vanity. Her legs had grown heavy and numb. She stretched them them lightly, standing on her tip toes.

"There is really no reason to go anywhere." She said more firmly, but in the back of her mind she wanted out of her house badly. Still…

"It will be fine. Trust me." He was leaning against the door, fully confident. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her body, facing him.

"Where do you want to go? And I really need an answer to this." She asked more harshly than she intended.

"Do you want it to be a surprise?"

"_No_. Just tell me."

"I'll take you to a park, it's a bit away from here."

"A park?" That confused her. What the hell did he want in a park?

"Yep. You can take the laptop if you want to work on it in the car." With one motion he pulled his shirt over his head. The conversation was over and he was obviously going to take his shower now.

Her eyes went to the scars on his abdomen again, and the big angry red one on his shoulder, before she quickly looked away. She left without another word.

* * *

There were barely any clouds in the sky, making it easier for the sun to warm up the cool early fall day. The temperatures seemed to drop a little every day now. It felt good on her skin though, after days of mostly grey, mushy skies. The car ride had lasted about one and a half hours, and she had spent it mostly with his HP machine on her lap, her hands clattering away on the keyboard, while he drove. He was keeping within the speed limit, not risking anything. She noticed that traffic was slowing down at some points, but luckily nothing major. This sunny saturday had brought out a lot of people, she thought with growing concern.

When she had walked out of the front door of her house earlier, to lock it, she had seen shards of her vodka glass glinting in the grass. She had quietly picked them up and disposed of it in the trash can. If anyone had seen them arguing the previous night, they would have called the police again. And rightfully so, she thought, furrowing her forehead.

He had seen her pick the remnants of the glass up from his car, parked at the curb. When she got in, he had thrown her a grin.

"You need to work on your aim by the way. It's lousy."

She had only shot him an angry glance.

The drive had felt fairly long and he had never specified where they were heading exactly. She faintly recognized the area after about 45 minutes. Another 10 minutes later, there wasn't even a question. He was taking a different route than she usually did, but now she knew. They were driving towards the Potomac river. Unconsciously she started to scan the distant skyline, looking for the striking silhouette of the Triskelion, only to remind herself to stop doing that. A pang of nervousness started to settle in her stomach. Why was he coming here?

There were a few greenways along the broad river and he parked the car at a seemingly random one. It was fortunately still a good bit away from the former SHIELD headquarter.

And the Helicarrier crash site.

She was nervously biting her lower lip, working on her healing scab. He had fought Rogers not too far off, before they both had fallen into the icy water. Barnes had sent a bullet into him, stabbed him and beaten him into a pulp. She had seen the severe injuries on Steve first hand. No other human would have survived that, and he almost hadn't. Natasha swallowed hard. But after Steve fell out of the carrier, Barnes had saved his life.

That was the last thing she wanted. To talk about that entire incident while in public.

Her nervousness was quite visible to him after they had come to a halt, and she opened her door with white knuckles. He walked around the car to her passenger side, stopping right in front of her. She looked up to him with wide eyes, the breeze already messing up his hair, making a strand fall right into face. She felt the tension in her hands, inbetween trying to get her hair to all spill to one side. She hadn't bothered with her hoodie today, growing tired of it. Now she was regretting not taking it to cover her striking red strands.

"We should leave." Fear shining through in her voice, partly of him and partly of the whole situation. Her green eyes darted through the small parking lot. A family with children, all laughing at something, walked by their car, making her freeze.

He stepped even closer to her, their legs touching. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her. She slowly took her hands off her hair and put one on each of his upper arms, feeling his muscles work through the fabric of his faded jacket. His expression was mild, and turned into a half smile.

"Relax." He told her quietly, squeezing her lower back.

She forced her nerves to settle down, his calm confidence slowly seeping into her. He noticed some of the rigidness leaving her body, then took her by one arm and walked down the greenway with her.

He wore some of his regular clothes again. An old, used green army jacket covering his arm and this time a dark glove stretched over his hand. She was wearing her jeans, boots and jacket for the cool fall breeze. They did blend in, like he had said they would, looking just like any of the other couples out strolling. Nobody was paying attention to them.

She released even more tension from her muscles, falling into a comfortable walk next to him. Natasha kept her head down and her eyes just above ground, scanning the area around them inconspicuously. She did it unconsciously and wasn't missing a single detail of her environment. Neither did he.

They walked in silence for a couple miles through the hilly park. It was a beautiful area, she couldn't deny that. The greenway went relatively high along the river, with large grassy areas and huge, mature trees on each side, spending shadow.

On one of the larger hills, he pulled her with him to walk onto the grass. They walked slightly downhill before he made her sit down in the cover of several trees. She bit her bottom lip as she lowered her sore body to the ground.

They had a majestic view of the rest of the park in front of them, with the Potomac in the not too far distance. People were strolling on different paths much lower on the hill. She scanned the area they were sitting in. It was somewhat secluded, their backs covered by trees and bushes. A large tree looming over them, casting them partly in shadow. A huge open area in front of them, everything clearly in view.

_A sniper's vantage point_. It rang through Natasha's head. She would have picked a similar spot to sit.

He pulled his knees up, resting his arms on them. She was sitting so close on his left side, they almost touched. She stretched out her legs and leaned back on her arms, digging her hands into the soft grass. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the scene below.

"Did you send off your message yet?" He asked her quietly, keeping his eyes on the river. His hair was covering his face from this angle.

Her heart skipped a beat and she narrowed her eyes. He wasn't stupid. He knew she had access to the internet and was able to email her boss.

"No." She answered in the same quiet tone. "Not yet."

"Why not?" He wasn't turning to her, sounding merely curious.

She took a deep breath. She couldn't even completely answer that question herself.

"I don't know."

He fell silent again, not moving. She shifted her legs, crossing them over each other. Questions were burning on her mind.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asked finally, her need to know more was too great.

He leaned forward, pausing before answering.

"I slept here for a few days, some weeks back." He rumbled quietly. "Over in some bushes. I somehow ended up here, but I don't remember all the details."

Her heart was beating faster, she would have to be very delicate about this topic, to not say anything wrong.

"It's a nice park, could've been worse I suppose." Natasha said softly, trying to think what else to reply.

He didn't answer right away and they both looked out to a container ship slowly floating down the Potomac.

"I wasn't sure what to do and just laid low to wait. I was still here, when they found and picked me up again." He continued slowly.

"Who?" She asked immediately, more sharply than intended.

"Hydra." He answered quietly. "Whatever was left of them, at the time."

"How did they find you?"

"A tracker, in my arm."

He still wasn't looking at her, just answering her questions neutrally, but she heard the underlying feelings. Of course he would have a tracker on him, why hadn't she thought of that.

"They took me back to one of their locations and I stayed a couple days, waiting for new orders. But things were much different than usual. Frantic. I overheard them saying that it was not safe there anymore, that the people in charge were gone. My arm was malfunctioning and they were able to repair it. But they didn't have the right people on staff to..." He broke off.

Natasha wasn't sure if she wanted to hear this all, but it was clearly bothering him.

He continued with a hoarse voice.

"To wipe me. They tried anyway. They sat me down, it was only four of them in the lab, much less than usual. Something made me take one of the guards' knife from his belt."

Her eyes went wide.

"I think I killed all of them." He paused. "No. I'm _sure _I did. Then I took care of the rest in the base." He chatted, void of emotion, except for something faint, barely there.

He had rampaged against his own people, and he didn't know what had caused it. She stayed silent to process all this information. She had an idea that it all had to do with whatever Rogers had said to him. Triggered in him, on the Helicarrier.

A different question came to her.

"Is that where you found your first laptop?" She was almost whispering, trying to connect the dots.

He finally turned to her, throwing her a quick smile.

"Yep. I took everything I needed. And I destroyed the tracker on me."

He breathed deeply, then slowly leaned back, stretching his legs until he was lying next to her. Suddenly relaxing as if he was glad that it was out now, a weight lifted off his shoulders.

He wrapped his left arm around her waist, a gesture so natural, as if he had done it a hundred times. She continued sitting, unable to move. There was still a human being deep down in him, under all the blank exterior, and she could barely fathom what he had been through.

She gritted her teeth. Although, looking at her own past, she had an idea.

000

The sun had shifted over them, and if she had to take a guess she would say it was early afternoon now. He had almost dozed off next to her, or maybe he was just pretending. She was glad that they hadn't talked more in depth about how he had ended up here, several weeks ago. She'd keep that for another, more private, time.

Her stomach was rumbling. In the distance she saw a little food cart parked near one of the greenways. She elbowed him lightly in the side.

"I'll be right back. I'm hungry." Without waiting for his response, she got up and started walking down the hill, cutting across the grass.

About 15 minutes later she returned with two styrofoam boxes full of random asian food, dumplings, noodles and spring rolls, and two bottles of water.

They ate in silence. His initial turmoil over telling her his story had melted away. He looked much more alive again, observing everything intently, scanning people who were strolling in the distance. He dropped his empty box, drinking his water. She noticed how concentrated he had become.

After a few minutes he leaned over to her and she got a scent of her own shampoo on his hair, neutral and earthy, but somehow smelling so much better on him.

"Do you see the man down there. Tan jacket. Full, grey beard. He is walking by himself."

Natasha tried to follow the direction he was looking in. There were big crowds of people all over, children running and screaming. Couples walking hand in hand. Then she saw the man he was talking about. Nothing unusual about him.

"Do you notice something?" He continued.

She looked harder. The man was walking slowly, slightly stiff. He spoke before she could.

"He's carrying a gun in his jacket and he's doing a poor job hiding it." He said it neutrally, but she could hear a mild pity in it.

She shrugged.

"So? Lots of people do. It's not illegal." Were the first words out of her mouth. On second thought, it might be illegal in a public park, she thought.

"How far do you think is he away?" Barnes continued.

She turned towards him now, his own face so close. She narrowed her eyes. There was a small smile on his mouth, measuring her. She knew what he was doing, testing her.

"I know how far. And it doesn't fucking matter."

"Tell me a number." He raised his eyebrows curiously.

Her mind was already rattling down numbers, the drag of the air resistance along with the direction of the light north-east wind, everything that could influence the projected path of a bullet before it would hit a target. She was getting angry.

"He's just some random person. Not a _target_."

"Just an exercise." He explained, his eyes turning mild at her anger.

She had to remind herself, under all that friendliness towards her, there was a constant mind of an assassin. Completely lethal. Her thoughts went to his car full of weapons and his proposal in the garage.

"Do not play this game, Barnes." Lowering her voice, her eyes darting between his. "Do not even joke about shooting random people. There is a huge difference between killing Hydra agents and innocent bystanders."

He turned serious himself now.

"I know the difference."

She furrowed her eyebrows at his answer. She wasn't entirely sure about that, but it was better than nothing. Without answering she looked back out on the river.

Natasha chewed her lower lip. Could she really blame him for his way of thinking? Killing people was all he had known for the past 70 years, of course it wouldn't fall away that easily. If ever. In a way, she was constantly thinking similar thoughts. Looking for vantage points, exit strategies, counting people in a room, noticing subtle gestures. They were more alike than she wanted to admit. If only she could help him channel his aggression into a way that didn't harm other people. Explain to him the path that laid in front of him.

What she did next, didn't come easy.

"I.." She started, pausing. "Went through the same process that you are going through, after defecting from Russia." Dark thoughts were invading her mind, but she had to make her point.

She took a deep breath, glancing at him.

"The lines were blurry for me sometimes on who the enemy was, on how to use my skills. All I knew was how to kill without asking why."

He was staring down the hill, listening intently.

"But I'm trying hard to make up for it, to somehow pay my dues." She continued.

There was a silence, he was thinking her words over.

"You are what you are." He answered quietly.

"I know what I am. I know what you turned me into." She paused, thinking about the Red Room. Among the bad memories, there were conflicting ones. "Do you know how incredibly honored I was to train under you?" She said quietly.

He turned his head at her, his mouth pulling into a smile.

"You were the best assassin to come out of it. Still are." He said, not without pride.

"Yes." She sighed. "You turned me into a weapon. I know how to kill. That's partly what SHIELD sends me on missions for. But I am also consciously making decisions now."

She had to pause, before continuing, her voice soft and vulnerable.

"I'm more than the sum of its parts, more than just an asset. And so are you. Do you understand?"

His face had fallen neutral again, watching her intently as she struggled to speak. He answered quietly, but she heard it.

"Yes."

* * *

**This turned into a quiet chapter and it felt right to cut it off at this point. Hope you all enjoy, there's more happening in the next one.**


	23. A Long Night

Chapter 23 - A Long Night - **Warning: Some violence/gore in this chapter**

Last chapter was sort of the quiet before the storm.

* * *

They were back in the car and on their way home, struggling through slow traffic. At least the saturday evening rush hour wasn't as severe as it was on a weekday, Natasha thought absentmindedly. It was early evening, the sun slowly going down, the air still somewhat warm.

Their chat on the grassy hill had made her feel somewhat better about him. He had opened up to her a bit more and in return she had done the same. It was a slow progress, but she saw some nonetheless. After explaining her own struggle to him they had sat a while longer. He had abruptly stood up and held his hand down to her, deciding it was time to go back. She had no complaints, since the drive back home would take a while.

Natasha had opened his laptop again. She was completely absorbed by the folders and files in front of her and kept mostly quiet. _Except_ for the occasional comment about other rush hour drivers, hissed between her teeth. She knew she had a serious road rage problem and was glad she wasn't the one driving.

He suddenly had to stomp on the brakes, the laptop sliding out of her hands, before she got a hold on it again.

"What the fuck." She snapped at the car in front of them. Someone had cut them off dangerously close while going 70 miles on the interstate. "Fucking asshole." If it was her on the wheel she'd be laying on the horn for a good ten seconds.

Barnes only laughed.

Out of all things, bad traffic brought out some of the worst in her. How was he able to stay calm while navigating this mess? She chewed on her bottom lip.

Her focus went back to the screen. On their earlier car ride she had stumbled over something interesting. A cleverly hidden folder structure, nestled deep in a difficult to access part of the hard drive. One of the few accessible documents in it contained a name that had made her do a double take. A name that had rung bell with her. A big one. _Pablo Hernán Castillo_. She had heard of him before, back in her brief time in Stark Industries.

Why would his name come up on a Hydra document? She was digging through the mostly locked files with interest. Some of these required passwords to be entered. She kept eyeing the sticky note, trying out the different number combinations from it.

"Anything interesting on there?" Barnes asked suddenly, while they were slowing down again for another traffic backup.

She shot him a glance.

"If you were hoping to find another backup of your file on it, I have bad news. It's not here." She wasn't sure if that had been his initial goal for taking this machine.

He shook his head slightly.

"I didn't expect it to be." He was watching concentrated into the traffic ahead. "I have other plans for that."

And surely he wouldn't tell her, Natasha completed the sentence in her head.

"Anything else?" He asked again.

"Well." She began. "Give me a minute, I might have just found something." She murmured softly, her mind getting distracted again.

He went silent, letting her work. Her fingers were flying now. Finding and cracking files always gave her a rush, it being incredibly satisfying. Once she had sorted out the correct passwords, the folders opened up. Lots and lots of documents began filling up the screen, so many, the loading process was slowing down the CPU. Her pulse quickened at the prospect.

_Jackpot._

She tried assessing the first hundred files by name and timestamps, sorting the most recently accessed ones to the top of the structure. Her breath was going evenly while she opened the top 20 documents all at once, and started reading. It only took a few minutes of skipping through the first pages to find something good.

"This is interesting." Her voice deceptively calm.

"What is it?" Barnes glanced at her, before looking back out the windshield. She had his full attention now.

She didn't answer right away. She had to make sure whatever she was reading was correct, her hands opening new documents left and right.

A minute passed while she read at high speed. It confirmed her suspicions. She started again.

"So, I didn't know who the original owner of this laptop was, the infiltrator you took out. But there's a name among all the documents here that I recognize. Pablo Castillo. Ever heard of him?"

"Not sure." Barnes answered indifferently.

"He's working for Stark Industries as a private subcontractor, I even met him once while I was there. He desperately wants to be like Tony, the playboy kinda type. But he's a few billions short of that. Not that he's _not _loaded though, oh no, his business is making him rich." She was talking and reading at the same time, her eyes flitting over the illuminated screen.

Barnes was listening without interrupting her.

"And can you guess what business is always booming?" She asked him rhetorically, before she continued.

"Warfare. Arms for the military. He's got ties to specialty weapons manufacturers worldwide and delivers certain parts to Stark. His niche are combat vehicles and their long range gun parts. Battle Tanks, Anti Aircraft Vehicles, etc. The big stuff."

She was rattling down all these facts from her brain and partly from the documents in front of her.

"He's been supplying to Tony for years, I remember him from a few back. But it looks like Tony isn't his sole customer."

Her hands were now focusing on finding recent communications, opening stored emails and documented bills with long lists of products.

"Castillo is selling to Hydra as well. Or should I say mainly? Judging from just these recent huge invoices. He's shipping tons of parts to South America for them, to different cities."

Her voice had a soft huskiness despite the serious topic, her head still sunken into all the confidential files.

"That scientist of yours must have helped with these transactions, but he was a small fish compared to this one. Castillo is helping Hydra to re-establish bases in South America for a nice chunk of money. I have some of the most recent communication right here. He has chilean roots himself, so that makes it even easier for him." She tried to grasp what she was saying.

"This is quite big." She finally looked up and over to him.

Barnes had been silent, but listening with interest. She could tell.

"What else? Where is his company located?" He rumbled.

"Well, here in D.C. It's a hub for those type of contractors. Castillo seems to often travel between here and the Stark Tower, as far as I know."

"Does he live in D.C. as well?"

"Let me check if I can find anything." She furrowed her eyebrows, then sunk back into her seat to dig some more.

It took her about five minutes, then she found her answer in an older stored email conversation thread between Castillo and several other names who she didn't recognize right away. She also saw something else. It was worrisome.

"Looks like he does." She answered his question from earlier. "I'm seeing a residential address with a Washington zip code. The question is though, for how much longer?" She paused again.

"This email is older, but he is planning to settle back into South America, once his biggest shipment goes out. He might be feeling the heat, with all the other Hydra agents being exposed. And he's planning to do this very soon."

Natasha looked back at Barnes. "We have to tell SHIELD right away, this is important."

He didn't answer her, processing all this new information while flying down the much clearer highway now. They had left the interstate behind.

"Let me look at it." He said finally, trying to bend his head over at her screen.

"Just pull over." She answered irritated, not agreeing with this driving technique. "We need gas anyway."

He pulled off at the next exit and rolled into a gas station, coming at a stop next to a pump.

He turned towards her and she handed him the laptop.

"I'll get the gas." Natasha was already out of the car, walking to the pump and used one of her credit cards. She watched him from afar through the car window, as he was staring at the laptop screen. The gas was pumping slowly, while she took a look around, scanning the area. There were security cameras in different corners.

_Nobody checks those. They would never see us together. _

She hoped at least.

His car door suddenly opened and he stepped out, just as she got done. He wordlessly started walking towards the little convenience store within the gas station. Natasha followed at a distance behind him in. Barnes went straight to the small aisles of the store, looking at random things, picking up candy and other snacks.

She decided to let him browse by himself and stayed at a different shelf, picking up a pack of gum. Her eyes never left him, nor did she miss a single move.

With partially full hands he strolled over to the cooled drink section and picked up random soda cans, reading their labels. Natasha's eyes flitted to his left. There was a girl in the same aisle. She looked like a college student, brown hair up in a bun, a flowy shirt, wearing shorts.

The girl was already throwing Barnes glances, her hands clutching something nervously, and Natasha knew what would come next.

"Hey. Those don't taste so good. I prefer this one myself." The girl had walked over to him, holding something out to Barnes. He shot her a quick glance from the corner of his eyes, but didn't look up from his label.

"Ah." He kept reading, his hair hanging down his face.

"Yeah, they come out with weird new flavors all the time." Her smile was friendly and inviting, trying to make small talk despite some nervousness. Natasha thought about intervening right then, but held back. She couldn't really believe what she was seeing. Barnes looked almost like a homeless person in his faded, worn clothes and the long hair. And he was still picking up girls.

He slowly turned his head toward the younger college student, mustering her, but didn't reply. Natasha was watching with her nerves at high alert.

"So, were you stationed here somewhere, or just returning home?" The girl asked, raising her eyebrows, obvious interest in her eyes.

_She thinks he was in the army_.

Natasha wanted to roll her eyes. She guessed his military jacket, composure and late twenty something look gave that impression. The long hair didn't fit though, but she forgave her that mistake.

The young college student was looking at Barnes bright eyed, a small flirtatious smile on her.

Barnes' expression stayed blank.

"No." He answered her question shortly. He wasn't in the mood for conversation, it was quite obvious.

Her smile vanished somewhat. "Are you from around here?" She tried again.

At that, something shifted in Barnes' face. It turned a shade darker, as if clouds had moved in behind his eye sockets.

"No. Definitely not." He answered flatly.

The change in him evoked something in the girl, her bright expression fell away and she backed off.

"Well, sorry." She mumbled, walking the other direction.

Natasha didn't know if he had conjured up his intimidating look on purpose, or if it was an unconscious thing. It was his familiar dark, blank stare, that she didn't want to see out in public. She walked over to him, but didn't say anything.

Barnes turned back to the shelf in front of him and bent down, taking several cans and carried them to the register.

"All together?" The middle aged lady behind the counter asked them bored, when Natasha threw her gum onto his purchase.

"Yeah." She pulled out her money and paid, just wanting to get out of there.

She mustered him once they were back in the car. His eyes were still a shade darker and he had said little the entire time. He rummaged through his bag full of purchases, pulling out the new M&Ms, ripping the yellow package open. He started eating a few. The rest of the bag with purchases went down near Natasha's feet on the passenger's side. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Everything ok?" She asked him finally with a firm voice. Only a little of her concern shining through.

"Yeah." He wasn't looking at her, just staring straight ahead.

She reached over with her left hand and poked him, then held it out flatly in front of him. He glanced at her and then at her hand, and poured some M&Ms into it.

They sat in silence for a while, eating their chocolate.

She began shuffling her legs around the bag next to her feet, then bent over to open it up. Aside from snacks, he had bought several energy drinks.

She took one of the cans out and held it up to him.

"What are those for?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

He had been mulling over something. Ever since she had first mentioned the Hydra subcontractor.

Suddenly he sat up right, dropping the candy bag into the middle console.

He twisted the key in the ignition, the engine revving to life, and released the handbrake. Then he turned to her, there was a flash in his eyes and his mouth pulled into a grin.

"It might be a long night."

000

Natasha had immediately understood his thought process. All the questions about Castillo's residence and Barnes' obvious interest in the case only led her to one conclusion. Barnes was turning Castillo into a mission, despite barely knowing any of the circumstances. The only fact that counted for him was that Castillo worked for Hydra.

She had disagreed vehemently over him getting involved.

They had argued all the way to her house. Or at least she had tried to get her point across into his thick skull, while he blocked everything she was saying. Instead of answering her, he had accelerated the car to get home faster, making it just after sundown. Seemingly everything she had tried to explain to him in the park was gone out of the window. His initial smile had vanished again after her resistance to the idea and he had been brooding for the rest of the drive.

Natasha had angrily left the car, slamming the door shut, and walked into her house. He followed her to the kitchen, where she whipped around, meeting his dark eyes. Natasha summoned all her willpower to try and stay calm.

"You are _not_ going to turn this into a mission, it is not your responsibility. You don't even know the guy." She said between her teeth, a sharp edge in her voice.

He stood a few feet in front of her and crossed his arms, making him look even broader, not bothered by her arguments.

"He is here, in the city. It couldn't be easier." He answered flatly.

"He is not _your_ target, there's no reason for you to do anything."

"I choose what to get involved in." He shrugged, picking up on what she had told him in the park about making conscious decisions.

Natasha gave him an exasperated look and started walking out of the kitchen. She needed to get the laptop from the car.

"I don't have fucking time for this. I need to email SHIELD. Now."

She tried walking around him when his hand shot out, grabbing her arm. She wanted to dodge it, but he was faster.

He pulled her in front of him.

"No." He said simply, looking down at her.

She forced herself to not pull away and instead stood still, staring up to his face. She took a deep breath, her patience wearing thin.

"I need to message SHIELD. They need to know about him, before he vanishes." She said firmly. His grip on her right arm was tight.

He looked down on her, no expression except for his dark eyes. She could sense something in him. A tension.

"You said yourself this is time sensitive." He said in a low voice. "I'm going to take him out tonight." He paused, before continuing. "_We_ are."

She exhaled sharply, trying to find something in those blank eyes of his. Where was the softness he had shown her earlier that day?

"You have lost your damn mind. You don't even know anything about him. This requires some strategic planning and a team. He's probably walled off in some damn mansion." Her anger was shining through now.

"What's your point?"

"My point is, that we should wait for fucking SHIELD backup." She didn't like him holding her any longer and tried to wrestle her arm out. After struggling briefly, he took her second arm as well, holding her still again. She tensed her legs to kick.

His indifferent expression had turned into something hard, the more she mentioned the agency she worked for.

"Do you think they will go along with whatever you say if you just ask them nicely?" He asked her firmly.

"Believe it or not, they listen to me." She angrily looked up to him, her arms still unmovable in his hands.

"Would that be their first priority after not having heard from you in two weeks?"

"Yes, cause it's fucking important." She replied immediately.

"The first thing they will do is come here. By the time they are done questioning you, the target will have moved out." He continued.

"They'll send a team to Castillo in the meanwhile." She said angrily, her eyes piercing his.

Barnes exhaled audibly.

"That is doubtful. Once you contact them, they won't let you leave that easily. And I know they want to get their hands on me." He paused. "They can try. Is that your goal?"

She didn't reply.

Then gritted her teeth. She knew it was true. If she got into contact with them, they would shift their focus on Barnes. And rightfully so.

"SHIELD is too slow, too unorganized to handle this." He paused. "We would be in and out in less than an hour."

She was chewing on her lower lip, thinking.

"Why does this specific case interest you so much, Barnes?" She asked. He was irritating and confusing her.

He just shrugged

But she knew the answer. Everything about SHIELD made him angry. But Hydra did even more so. It was a personal vendetta for him. That had become clear during her time with him. And he was hellbent on continuing missions against them. Was this the reason for his weapon hoarding?

"Let me go now." She averted her eyes to his chest.

He finally dropped his hands from her and she took a step back. She unconsciously rubbed the skin where he had just held her so tightly.

"I'm taking him out. Tonight." He repeated in a voice that allowed no argument. "Are you joining me?"

She knew he was capable to pull this off just fine by himself, had done something similar two nights ago. But a bad feeling was tugging in her stomach nonetheless. She thought about the bullet bruise on his abdomen.

There was something else, she could feel the tension in him. The elation about the prospect of a mission, about doing something they were trained to do, about having a purpose. It was leaking into her. Her hands were itching to hold a weapon again. She wanted to get out into the field, having sat idle for too long.

Before SHIELD would react to what she had to say, Castillo might have made off and they would be questioning her about Barnes instead. They could go in together, cut one head off before it spawned several new ones. It would slow down the shipment of the weapon parts, cripple them even more.

She sucked on her lower lip, then made up her mind.

"I have some conditions. And they are non negotiable." She looked up to him with clear, green eyes.

He cocked his head, listening.

"Number one. We are not killing civilians, under no circumstances. If there are any."

He did a little shrug and Natasha narrowed her eyes.

"Do you understand? No civilians, I want to be extremely clear on that."

His eyes were still dark, but he nodded.

"Second. I want my damn Glocks back."

A flash went through Barnes' eyes, and a corner of his mouth went up.

"Is that all?" He asked, looking down to her.

"Yes. That is all." She licked her lips, her teeth grazing over the scab.

"You'll get them. Go change your clothes." He ordered, his eyes changing into a steely expression but she could tell he was satisfied. She looked at him for a second longer, then turned towards her bedroom. He followed her, getting ready to put on his armor as well.

000

Natasha stood in her kitchen, pulling her thigh holsters tight around her legs, checking the straps on each side. Putting them back on had excited her more than she wanted to admit. Now she just needed her guns back.

She had changed into some comfortable, all black workout clothes, since she had none of her actual armor in her house. Her suits were always kept at the headquarter, but she was making plans to change that in the future.

His footsteps were echoing down the hallway from her bedroom. There was an initial shock, once she saw him wearing his thick vest again, his bionic arm fully exposed. His dark hair was partially concealing his face and hard stare. She masked it under an indifferent expression, but there was a knowing recognition in his eyes. Seeing him like that always made her heart skip a beat. He was pulling his own holster tight around his hip.

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the car key, then threw it to her. She caught it with one hand.

"Get them from the trunk. Leave it open, I'll be right out."

She walked wordlessly past him, when he turned around to her.

"Is your ankle still hurting?"

"A bit. But I can manage." She answered over her shoulder.

Moments later and she held her Glocks back in her hands. The weight of them felt good on her thighs, along with the knife in the back of her pants. He had come into the garage as well.

With his armor came a guarded layer of concentration, it was enveloping him. His movements were precise, almost mechanical, when he inspected his chosen weapons, not taking all of them. He laid them out in the trunk of the car.

He had picked two handguns, a small submachine gun, the M4 assault rifle and the Vintorez, a silent sniper rifle -– one of his newer favorites. Two long knives were already strapped on the back of his vest. She eyed them from beside him, unconsciously clutching the Glock on her thigh.

He was completely in his element, almost in trance, as he quickly opened and checked barrel and chamber on each weapon, filling the garage with small clicking noises. Natasha's pulse quickened, while she was watching him, a mixture of nervous anticipation and something else.

He snapped the trunk shut.

"Let's go." He growled.

000

_This might be a bad idea._

But it was too late now to change her mind. She had followed her gut reaction and had agreed to go with Barnes. They were driving in his car for the second time that day, into a completely different direction and with a different goal in mind.

The night was clear and cloudless, the pale moonlight would help, rather than hinder. Her initial anger over their argument had vanished from her system. She was slipping into a different mind set. Her brain was starting to go blank, shutting out intrusive thoughts, shutting out the soreness in her body, staying highly concentrated at the same time. It was past midnight already and she was sharing one of his caffeinated drinks with him, taking little sips, to not get too jittery.

They had been driving for a couple hours, out west. She looked over to him in the car. He was calmly holding the wheel with one hand, looking concentrated out of the windshield. It reminded her of the very first car ride with him. He had been her enemy then. She looked back down on her notes and quietly guided him to the address of their target.

Eventually they pulled into a high class neighborhood. The expensive mansions here were huge and set far apart. She had been right with her guess of his type of residence.

"It should be up the street from here, in a cul-de-sac. All by itself." Her voice was low and husky.

Barnes let the car roll slowly off the street, at a stretch with particularly dense foliage, coming to a stop down in a flat ditch. Nobody would be able to see it from the road, unless they were looking hard.

He got out and walked to the trunk, his boots sinking partly into the soft soil, and started getting his weapons out. Natasha stepped next to him. The moonlight helped her see the world in grey and black shapes. It rendered him into a dark silhouette.

"Carry this one." He pressed the sniper rifle into Natasha's hands. She hoisted it carefully onto her back.

He took the rest, strapping all guns into their place, the M4 on his back. They started walking up the sloping street under the dark cover of trees, coming up on lights in the distance.

"Up there." He whispered in her ear, pointing to a hill that would give them the best overlook. The low lights of the house wouldn't reach that far, Natasha could see that. They climbed it unseen, finally being able to take a good look at the residence. The vast mansion was surrounded by a gate and a high fence, none of which concerned her.

They positioned near a big trunk of a tree, giving them cover. She kneeled next to his dark form, taking in every detail of the traditional spanish-influenced villa. It had two stories with white stucco walls and was sprawling over a huge area. Her eyes gazed over the mostly black windows and the ornate, landscaped yard. She narrowed them, trying to make out details. She could see small sensors on a couple lit windows. An installed security system. She recognized the brand by the way the sensors were located.

A movement on the flat roof of the house caught her attention. He had seen it too.

He slowly reached over to her, taking his sniper rifle off her shoulder and laid it in front of him, kneeling on one leg. He took out the fragile scope from one of his front pockets and attached it, his hands moving blindly. It clicked into place. Then he reached into one of his back pockets, taking something out. His hands were in his hair pulling it back out of his face into a small ponytail, with a hairband he had taken from her bathroom.

She almost had to laugh, despite how serious this was.

"You look fucking ridiculous." She whispered in his direction.

He shot her a glance and she saw his quick grin in the darkness, before he laid the russian-made gun into his shoulder, taking aim. The telescopic sight serving as binoculars for him.

"A single guard, on the roof." He said quietly. Then aimed towards the yard. "One more near the front."

She frowned. Why did Pablo have guards? He must be more scared than she initially thought. What if he had hired an outside agency for this job? She gritted her teeth.

"What do they look like. Any patches on their uniform?"

Barnes was searching concentrated.

"Hydra." He stated flatly.

"How can you tell?" The agents were rather far away in the barely lit darkness surrounding the house.

"The one on the roof is carrying a HK G36, along with their typical armor. It's very obvious." He answered calmly.

"Just shows how deep in he's with them." She said between her teeth, all pity for their target leaving, if there had been any left in her.

He lowered his gun again and fully turned to her.

"I'll take care of these two, but there are probably more in the back. They need to be taken out silently. Can you handle that?" He was looking at her with dark eyes, shifting in between hers.

She wanted to roll her eyes.

"Of course I fucking can." She hissed. "By the way, he's using a pretty good security system, but I know it in and out. Shouldn't be a problem to disable, just don't trigger it before I get to it. We'll meet up inside."

He nodded. She looked up at him, with his pulled back hair and his dark, serious expression. The way he was kneeling in front of her with a sniper rifle in his hands, fully concentrated and lethal. It was so familiar to her somehow. She trusted him in this moment, more than anyone else.

She did something that she couldn't really explain why, the urge had come to her. She lifted her head up to him at an angle, and pressed her lips on him for once, her hand clutching the collar of his vest to pull him toward her. He responded immediately, kissing back, his stubble scratching her soft skin, while she felt his warm breath on her.

She abruptly got up and left him without another word, carefully walking down the hill towards the other side of the house. A rush of adrenaline being released in her body, it felt exhilarating. She had craved to go on a mission more than she had realized.

000

She had climbed the 10 foot ornate wire fence with ease, bypassing the razor sharp edges on top. Two guards were on her side of the house. Luckily they were standing rather far apart, one closer to the house, the other out in the back of the yard.

The latter one would have to come first, knowing she had to roughly time it with Barnes shooting the guard patrolling the top of the house. Her eyes hung on the roof and his lone silhouette. He wasn't looking in her direction. She made her way through the yard, unseen, until she could make out her first target more clearer. He had his back to her, not really paying attention, only wearing a handgun on his belt.

_This is too easy._

Her eyes went to the roof again, waiting. The silhouette dropped silently.

She quickly ran and jumped the guard from behind, knife in her hand, sinking it deep into the back of his neck. He never saw it coming and it was over quickly. He collapsed under her, and she rolled off silently. She quickly scanned her surroundings, finding the other guard in the distance, under the awning of the mansion. He hadn't seen anything.

Natasha sneaked towards him now, through sculpted bushes and along the shadow of the mansion. His back wasn't completely to her, she'd have to be quick. She ran again, but this time caught some loose gravel under her shoes, producing a noise.

_Shit._

"Hey-–" The guard whipped around, hand pulling the gun out of his holster. She collided with him, toppling him over onto his back. He lost the grip on his gun and it clattered away while she stabbed him in the neck, but missing the vital part. He fought back, punching her painfully into her face with a closed fist, before his eyes went wide, clasping both hands to his bleeding throat. She gasped under the hard punch over her right eye, seeing only black for a second.

"What the _fuck_." He croaked, before she quickly put a hand over his mouth. He tried to kick out, but she ended it right then, sliding the knife into the correct spot. He went still under her. Her hands were already gliding over his pockets, patting him down, until she found a security card along with several keys.

She got up on two shaky legs, the right side of her face hurting painfully, and wiped her red covered knife-hand on her pants.

_I'm fucking rusty. I couldn't train for entirely too long while with him._

She gritted her teeth, it was not really the time to dish out blame. She slid along the wall of the mansion, peeking out to the front, seeing the corpse of Barnes' second target. It had been just four then.

There were cameras along the front door, but she was able to cut the wiring and then got busy finding the right key and swiped the card on the lock. The house was quiet and dark inside, when she slowly entered. Only a faint muffled sound coming to her from the second floor.

_A television._

She had about 60 seconds to find the main security panel. It was hidden in one of the hall closets, a typical place to put it, and cut the wiring to disable it.

She silently wandered up to a large and expensive looking kitchen. Natasha stopped and listened. There were no other sounds coming from first level. She walked to the wide door that led to a living room and peaked around the corners. Nothing.

There was a change in the air behind her, she whipped around, gun drawn.

Barnes stood unmoving just a few feet behind her in the darkness of the kitchen. He was carrying the M4 in one hand, finger next to the trigger. He had pulled the hair band out again, apparently only using it for sniping. She hadn't heard him move at all.

_He's a goddamn ghost._

She relaxed, lowering her hand, then stepped closer to him.

"He's on the second level. I'm going up there." She whispered. Barnes thought for a moment. He took another step to her, bending his head down to her ear.

"There might be more of them. I'm going to clear down here. Then come up."

She gave a quick nod and turned around, walking out into the hallway. Then up a huge marmor staircase. There were no other guards in her path and not a single other noise. The upper story was huge and she followed the faint sound, passing several doors in the wide hallway. She was nearing a bedroom, the tv noise growing louder. A door hung open by a sliver, blueish light coming out of it. Her heart rate had picked up, she readied her gun.

She slowly opened the door with a faint creak, stepping into the room, her gun pointing into it.

"What is it-" Castillo started loudly in a deep, accented voice, then fell silent when he saw Natasha.

He was sitting in his bed, across from her, confusion spreading on his face. Then anger.

"What the fuck?" She could hear the rage in him.

"Don't move." She aimed steadily at him, her face calm, almost serene. Castillo was probably not used to getting orders. He looked like he was in his early forties, a beard similar to Stark's, olive tan skin stemming from his chilean roots. A small spanish accent in his voice.

"How did you get in here?" Castillo was shuffling in his covers.

"I said don't fucking move." Natasha said with more force.

Something was moving beside him under the bedcovers. A woman peaked over it and let out a small gasp. Natasha frowned at the sight. She thought she had researched that Castillo wasn't married and had no family in the US.

"Who are you?" She asked in her direction, not letting Castillo out of her sight.

"I.. I.. please don't kill me." She stammered.

Natasha gritted her teeth, and tried to assess the situation. Seeing her clothes in a stack near the bed, next to her purse.

_A prostitute?_

"You. Get out." She continued talking to the call girl. Natasha didn't have to tell her twice. She threw back the cover and clutched her clothes, running past Natasha in her panties. She heard the patter of her bare feet running down the hall and stairs before they faded out. In the back of her mind she hoped the girl wouldn't run into Barnes.

She focused back on Castillo.

"Get out of bed. Slowly." Castillo did as she said, slowly getting up, wearing only boxers. He was still looking at her with a mixture of confusion and anger, then his eyes flitted behind her.

She noticed the person behind her too late. Someone kicked her painfully in the back as she was whipping around. A heavy bodyguard toppled on top of her, knocking her raised gun out of her hands. His weight was pinning her down on the floor, one of her arms painfully twisted under her back. He pulled his fist back, getting ready to punch her. Natasha clenched her teeth, pulling a free knee up to her body, kicking him hard into the soft stomach and pushing him off her with even more force. The guard fell back with a loud cry of pain. She rolled away, her now free hand already pulling the second Glock from her thigh. She aimed and fired at the rising man, making him slump over without another word.

There were more shots coming from somewhere not too far away, just down the hallway.

_Barnes. There had been more guards in the house._

She whipped around to Castillo. Her fight with the bodyguard had only taken seconds. Castillo was frantically searching in an open drawer in his nightstand. He pulled something out, turning towards her.

"Fucking bitch‒"

Natasha sent two bullets into his chest, throwing him back into the wall. His face turned into a mask of pure shock and confusion, his gun falling out of his hand, blood running down the wall behind him. He slowly slid down along his nightstand, not understanding what had happened, until he slumped over on the floor.

She was lying on her back, breathing hard. There would be no interrogation tonight. The world around her had turned silent, a ringing in her ears.

There were still faint noises coming from the hallway. She shot up again, as quickly as her body allowed it, picked up the second Glock she had lost, and stumbled through the bedroom door.

Two dead guards were heaped in the far back corner of the barely illuminated hall. A growing puddle of blood underneath them.

Barnes was just ten feet in front of her, throwing a third one into the wall. The guard was still holding onto a gun, trying to raise it as he was sprawled on the floor. Barnes was on him, stomping his arm hard. Natasha heard the crunch of bones breaking and the man howled out in pain. Barnes' bionic hand drew a knife with a blurry motion from the back of his vest, then he kneeled on top of the guard. Without hesitating he drove it deep into the heart of the other man.

Natasha hadn't moved from the door frame. Everything had happened incredibly fast. She felt something warm trickling down from her brow into her right eye, making it burn. She blinked a few times.

Barnes watched the man underneath him take his last breath as blood poured out over his hand, still holding the knife. He slowly pulled it out again, waiting a second longer. He brought up a knee, then lifted himself up slowly. He rose his head.

"Hey‒" She started.

His eyes met hers. Natasha froze.

They were blank.

Not just blank. They were two dark holes sitting in a vacant face. Void of emotion. Void of anything. She immediately saw it on him, he was gone. Blood was running down his bionic arm, dripping off the tip of the knife and leaving little spots on the expensive marble floor below. The blade was turned in her direction.

There was a ringing in her ears and it was getting louder. He wasn't moving, only watching her from behind his dark, wild hair.

Her hand holding the Glock by her side started to tremble.

"James.." She whispered under her breath.

_No, please, no._

Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest and ears. She felt like something was about to snap in her head, a pure, primal instinct rising up from the depth in the back of it. It was screaming at her.

_Run._

_RUN._

She trembled. But she didn't move. She wouldn't leave him.

Instead she ripped up her hand, pointing the gun at him. It was shaking and she couldn't get it to stop. All she could do was stare wide eyed into his face.

"**James**." She yelled, trying to sound firm, but it was cracking.

Then a faint recognition.

A small glimmer in his eyes. He cocked his head.

"You are bleeding." His voice was quiet.

She didn't reply, the Glock pointed at him.

He blinked slowly. Once. Twice. Some of the rigidness left his body and he took a step forward. He wiped his blade clean on his pants, then put it behind his back again.

His eyes filled with something that she could recognize.

Natasha let the breath she had been holding slowly out between her teeth. Then lowered her gun.

"Did you get him?" Barnes asked her, not perturbed about having had the Glock aimed at him. His usual voice returned, as he stepped over the dead body on the ground. He wasn't whispering anymore.

Battery acid was flowing through her veins. For a moment she had thought everything was over.

She only nodded.

"Good. There were a few more, but the house is clear now." He walked past her to look into the bedroom. His eyes went over the dead body guard and Castillo on the far back wall.

"Let's move out." He turned towards her. She still hadn't been able to say anything. He stood right in front of her, mustering her face. His bionic hand brushed up against her temple, wiping some of the blood away. He did it gently and it felt like a touch by a hand of flesh and blood.

"Ready?" He asked her.

"Yeah." She swallowed. "Let's go." She looked up to him. Her heart was still racing, her blood filled with an aftertaste of adrenaline. She wasn't sure if he saw the receding panic on her neutral face.

They walked back downstairs. Barnes collected the Vintorez he had left in the kitchen, handing it to Natasha. They left nothing behind but bullet shells.

"Did you see a girl running out?" She asked him as they stepped out into the yard.

"Yep. She didn't see me though."

_Thank god._

They walked silently through the driveway, opening the gate, then traced back the way they had come. Side by side. She listened to their hushed foot steps on the grass, thoughts spinning in her head, as they were coming up to the treeline that was hiding their car.

He suddenly laid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, while walking.

"Good job in there." He whispered.

Natasha wasn't entirely sure about that, she had made mistakes.

And he had scared her. Not purposely, she understood that. She should've known that this could happen, there was clearly the possibility for it. The conditioning sat too deeply in him and it was still taking over in extreme situations. But he had somehow snapped himself out of it, or maybe because she had yelled at him. She wasn't sure if he was even aware or remembered that it had happened.

He was back now. That was what mattered.

Despite her mixed emotions she pulled her mouth into a smirk, her sarcasm springing into action.

"You made me miss dinner for this." She replied. "I believe you owe me."

He didn't answer, but she saw his mouth go up into a grin.

* * *

So this is how I spent the long holiday weekend, writing this chapter, lol.

Yay, they went on a mission. I hope the violence didn't turn out too disturbing, I already toned it down a few times. James still has some problems to deal with, obviously, but he really dislikes Hydra. Well, so does Natasha.

Anyway, next chapter is already in planning.


	24. Surrender

Chapter 24 - Surrender

* * *

Natasha's boots echoed over the smooth linoleum floor as she walked down the back aisle in her local pharmacy, a red plastic shopping basket hooked in her elbow, her eyes searching the shelves. She hadn't bothered driving somewhere further out to lower her risk of being seen, figuring a quick store visit by herself wouldn't hurt. Barnes was probably still sleeping in her bed, or maybe he was up by now, she guessed. It was most likely the latter. It was rare that she got out of bed before him, but it had been afternoon by the time she had gotten up.

She had quietly taken his car keys from his pile of clothes on the floor, while he was passed out, sleeping deeply as if in a coma. The night had been strenuous for the both of them and she could feel the sore after effects of the physical exertion in her core and limbs. And in the warm pulsing bruise under her right eye, the newest coloration she had covered under a thick layer of makeup.

Of course he would sleep longer than her, she had figure that. She had dozed off in the car on their long way home the previous night, while he had driven in silence for almost three hours, letting her rest.

When they had reached the car earlier that morning, hidden in the ditch by a treeline, he had stopped her. James had offered right there and then to take her out to dinner, taking her little quip about a missed meal completely serious. Despite it being after 4 am in the morning, despite the armor, weapons and blood they wore. She had only raised an eyebrow at his offer and had almost asked him again if he had gone mad.

But instead she had opted for something softer. "We'll do it later. I just want to go home." Her tiredness shining through her strained voice.

He had nodded, a promise he wanted to keep.

He was always so serious about everything, sometimes not understanding her sarcasm at all. But at other times he would joke around with her just as much, it was confusing really. Or he could be downright flirting, but that was rare, and she knew that was the old Sergeant Barnes coming through.

She stopped in front of the First Aid section, picking up a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and twisted it in her hand, reading the label absentmindedly. She caught a glance of her face in a mirroring metallic bar that separated two shelf sections. Her green eyes unreadable to anyone that saw her.

When she had known him only as the Winter Soldier ‒ and even that name had only been spoken in quiet voices ‒ he hadn't been much different. Maybe even more serious, but quiet and reserved all the same. He had always liked to taunt her a little bit and she felt she might have taunted him right back, in their later years, that were now mostly missing from her.

"Can I help you find anything, miss?" A friendly male voice next to her spoke up, snapping her out of her thoughts. She had almost flinched. Almost.

"No, just browsing. Thank you." She shot the young employee a quick smile. His face lit up as she turned to him, her long hair moving over her shoulders.

"Sure, let me know if you do need help with anything." The young man kept walking down the aisle, straightening products on the shelves.

Her hands dropped a couple peroxide bottles into the basket, along with sterile gauze, cotton pads, band-aids, a specialty skin sealer for cuts and an entire new medical kit that held suture materials. Just in case.

She had left him a note earlier, before she had started her lone trip to the pharmacy. _Need a couple things from the store. Be back soon. ‒N_

She felt silly leaving one, but then again, she wasn't sure how he'd react to finding her gone. She chewed her bottom lip as she walked into the next aisle for pain medication. He had held a close watch on her for quite a while, and her patience was all but worn out. Resulting in taking the car keys unasked.

She picked up extra strength Tylenol and Aspirin, letting it drop into the basket.

Memories of the previous night floated into her mind. For a second her heartbeat went up a few paces, before she forced herself calm again, her face neutral the entire time. She had made a decision which had gone _clearly_ against protocol. And there was a good chance, that once SHIELD would get involved in the investigation, they would somehow track this bloodshed back to her. She was sure she had overlooked something that would count as evidence. And then she would have to answer for this complicated mess of a story.

If she had contacted them first, SHIELD might have even made the same call that Natasha and Barnes had. To get rid of that Hydra pawn immediately. Her agency didn't deal kindly with its enemies, even though those extreme measures were all under the cover of secrecy, and not openly talked about. But sending out special ops teams to strategically take out targets happened all the time.

What worried her was something different. If they traced back to her, they would find Barnes.

That didn't leave her much time to get some things cleared up in case he _did_ fall into their hands. Barnes had led her near the Helicarrier crash site yesterday. Maybe that meant he was ready to discuss that event. And with it, she'd bring up Steve. A pang of nervousness going through her stomach.

She hadn't forgotten his negative reaction to her first time mentioning the Smithsonian exhibit.

000

Barnes was sitting on her couch, when she entered through the garage door, plastic bags in her hand, the tv running in the background. She frowned at the mess he had created on her square wooden coffee table. The Vintorez rifle laid in parts on her furniture piece and he was cleaning the small steel parts with paper towels and a solution he had found in one of her moving boxes in the garage.

He looked up to her, as she kicked her boots off and strode into kitchen, throwing the bags down on the kitchen countertops. But he didn't say anything. His damp, showered hair was in small tangles, his eyes were calm but measuring, eyeing her purchases. She turned to him and put her hands on the granite, bending over the countertop to look into the living room.

"There's plenty of space in the garage to be messy." Raising an eyebrow at him.

He looked into her green eyes.

"Where did you go?" He asked neutrally, giving no consideration to moving to the garage.

She had wondered the entire drive back what his reaction would be to her little solo trip.

"To the store, like I said on the note. I needed some things." She held up the brown bottle of peroxide and shook it, then took out the band-aids and gauze package from the cheap shopping bags and laid them by the side.

"Ah." He answered, apparently it hadn't concerned him much.

He was wearing his used clothes again. The blue colored jeans that looked washed out and slightly loose on him, the dark grey shirt with wrinkles and a worn out blue and grey flannel shirt with rolled up long sleeves. That one she hadn't seen before, she noticed, it was probably stemming from his duffel bag in her laundry room.

"That jacket looks nice, you should wear it more often." She rambled as she was unpacking the rest of her bags. Now he was giving her the _are-you-serious_ look from behind his hair. "Yeah, I'm being honest." She said with more force. Apparently it had sounded sarcastic in his ears. Compliments were a foreign concept coming from her.

She dug out a new gallon of milk from the last bag, since the old one had gone bad fast, and put it into the fridge. Seeing all the food in there reminded her on his strange offer again.

"I'm just curious, Barnes." She was talking loudly while moving groceries in the fridge around to make space. "Were you really going to take me out for dinner at 4 am in the morning?" That question was just burning on her mind.

"Yeah." He answered simply. She turned back around to watch him. He had focused back on his gun, cleaning a small part with a paper towel. It was the bolt catch, a part of the lower receiver, she could see that from several feet away. "We can go now instead. If you want." He continued.

She slowly walked out of the kitchen area and leaned on her dining table, crossing her arms as she watched him meticulously put the tiny part down and taking a different one into his hands.

"Let's do that another time. I have so much food in the fridge, it needs to get eaten." She answered him. And she had something else in mind. It would be a longer conversation, that needed to happen in privacy. He didn't look up, too concentrated on his task.

"Is something wrong with it, or why are you cleaning the gun?"

"Last night I noticed that it was pulling a bit to the left. And I didn't have much time to test it before we headed out." He answered neutrally.

She thought back at the two guards he had cleanly taken out from a distance.

"It didn't seem like it was an issue." She shrugged her shoulders. At that he looked up, pulling a corner of his mouth in a smile.

"It never is."

He could handle even flawed weapons with ease, adjusting his stance ever so slightly so the bullet still found its target. She felt a small, but deep itch in her left shoulder, and she rolled it lightly. Her hand was twitching to touch her scar, but instead she pushed herself away from the table, pursing her lips. She switched topics.

"I don't know about you, but I'm famished." She started walking back to the kitchen. "Want to help me cook? Because you obviously can. Doesn't leave you with many excuses."

To her surprise he actually put down the part he was holding, carefully and into a specific spot, and got up to follow her to the stove, waiting for her instructions. She rummaged through her fridge again, finding a pack of raw chicken breast. That would need to be eaten before it went bad. She pressed it into his hands.

"Cook this. In the pan, I guess." She ordered him, while getting the pan and a big pot out.

Barnes spread the raw white meat onto a cutting board and started trimming the fat off quickly, while she got out long pasta and a white sauce, heating water up. Pasta was so easy to prepare that she could just make it over and over. They worked quietly next to each other for several minutes. He had already finished grilling the chicken with her help and was rinsing his hands in the sink, when she finally threw the pasta in the slowly boiling water.

She found him leaning against the counter, watching her every move. She was still wearing her dark jeans from her trip earlier, along with a simple white shirt, her hair in messy curls. She didn't always want to take the time to straighten it, that just took so damn long when she was in a hurry.

A small nervousness started spreading in her stomach again, the more she thought about how the rest of the evening might go. Maybe he saw it on her and misinterpreted it, relating it to a different situation.

"Last night." He started and his voice sounded curious. "Did something happen upstairs, in that hallway?"

Natasha was dumping the white sauce into a little pot, not showing anything on her face. The image of his black, dead eyes floating into her mind. She sat down the empty jar and exhaled quietly, then turned to him, crossing her arms defensively. She wasn't going to sugarcoat what he had turned into.

"Yes. Something happened. You were gone there, mentally, completely checked out for a few minutes at least. Whatever takes control over you and turns you into a different ...person. When you get into a threatening situation." She paused trying to look for a reaction, but seeing none. "You've done this a few times now. Do you even remember?"

He slowly shook his head. "I remember taking out the rest of the guards. There were three upstairs, one was making his way to you. I stopped him before he could get close, and when I looked up I saw you." He cocked his head to one side.

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows. He knew the actual events then, but not the circumstances. It somehow bothered her, she almost wanted him to rather not remember. He noticed her unconscious fidgeting, the longer he was staring at her.

"Did I scare you?" He asked suddenly, his voice had gotten quieter.

"No." She lied, looking at him with clear eyes. He narrowed his brows at that, not believing her for a second.

"Do you regret coming with me?" His voice was cautious. She almost heard a bit worry in it. Natasha had felt his rush and excitement when she had agreed to join him, although he had masked it very well. It had been important to him.

"No, I don't regret it." Now it was her that took a few slow steps into his direction, until she stood in front of him. She really didn't regret it, standing with her decision, even though it would speed up their chance to getting discovered. It had given her a purpose even if it was for just a short time, something she had needed to feel.

He snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Her belly collided against his, as he was pressing her into him, standing with her small hips between his thighs.

"You did great, I knew you would." He said quietly and with a little pride, looking down at her. But she didn't want to crane her neck and gazed at the collar of his shirt in front of her, fixated on the skin of his neck with its small stubbles, and his adam's apple that moved when he spoke.

"I made some mistakes." She simply answered. And she wasn't being coy, it was only an unbiased assessment. "I have lost some strength in my legs and arms, that was obvious last night. The injury in my ankle has set me back. At least it's pretty much healed now."

"If you want.." He started. "We can train again together, like we used to. It's a good match when you are at full strength." She heard his voice coming from right above her. She was considering his offer. He would always have an advantage on her strength-wise and his speed almost matched hers in a full out sparring. It made him the perfect training partner for her.

She finally put her head back into her neck to look into his eyes. "Sure, we can do that sometime." A glint came into his eyes, maybe caused by a memory, she couldn't say. He lowered his mouth on her and she closed her eyes, as she angled her head. He kissed her deep and slow, his tongue sliding over hers, wanting to fill her completely. She wrapped her hands behind his neck and molded into his body, one of her eyes was tickling when his hair kept falling into it. Her mind went blank, barely noticing his hands under her shirt, only focused on his lips and his warm, quickening breath.

Something caught her attention. The tv had been running quietly the entire time in her living room. An evening news show was on and the serious sounding anchor had mentioned a name.

"… _was found dead in his Washington D.C. residence Sunday morning."_

She ripped herself away from Barnes, making him sulk as she left his arms, and quickly walked up to her tv, watching the report with wide eyes. A large photo of Castillo was next to the female news anchor's head.

"_...no other information has been released so far. The investigation is still ongoing. In other news…"_

Their excursion from last night had made the local news quicker than she thought. But they had basically said nothing of the circumstances, no mention of any dead guards or his shady connections, or any words on suspects. Once local law enforcement got the CIA and then probably SHIELD involved this news bit would vanish quickly again. They put a cap quickly on things that endangered national security.

She turned around. Barnes was looking at her tv almost bored, even though he was directly involved in it.

And she had an idea why.

Unlike her line of work, that usually was a lot more subtle, his own missions in the past century had almost always made news. His assassinations had caused huge international waves in some way or another. She knew he had been mainly used to take out high ranking targets. Important key people, whose removal had left huge gaps within governments or the private sector. He was solely responsible for shifting the political world climate in one way or another.

It was almost a too scary concept to wrap her mind around.

He glanced at her with unreadable eyes, then turned around, not interested in the report anymore, and walked back to the stove. He finished what Natasha had started, cooking the pasta and warming the sauce.

She followed him back and cleared her throat.

"I have something to talk to you about."

000

The sun had gone down by the time they had eaten dinner. He had basically wolfed his down, feeling just as starved as she had. Then she had made him clean off the gun parts from the coffee table, not backing down on that request. She had helped him carry it out into the garage for the time being, onto a small sideboard table that stood unused.

He was sitting across from her now, leaning back into the couch and watching her with mild curiosity. They were separated by the low table in the middle.

Against her better judgement she had poured herself a small glass of vodka. Her hand was rolling the clear liquid in the glass and she took a small sip, the familiar burn in her throat. She was calmly sitting in her cushioned chair, one leg drawn up to her body, her face soft and unreadable. Although that was not what she felt like on the inside.

He shifted his head, as if waiting for her to begin.

"I would like to know." She started. "After you detached yourself from Hydra, why did you start following me? You could have done anything you wanted. Why me?"

He furrowed his eyebrows as if he couldn't understand the question. "Because I knew I had seen you somewhere." He answered firmly.

"I get that. We share a history, but I'm not the only part in it. I'm curious, who else do you remember?"

He just shrugged instead of answering.

"Anybody?" She persisted.

"Does it matter?" He asked back with a bit more force. She licked her lips, already running into a wall. She tried it from a different angle.

"You keep triggering memories about your life at base and in the army a lot. Do you have anything from before it?"

"A little bit." He answered, sounding bored.

"Where did you grow up?"

"New York."

She wasn't sure if he was just reciting whatever he had read about himself in the scraps that were out there. Or if he actually remembered those parts. He didn't seem interested at all in digging for these memories, the way he was wording his answers.

She leaned back in her seat, taking another sip of the vodka. He suddenly leaned forward and stuck his hand out, in the direction of her glass.

"Let me try again." He nodded at her, no sign that he was joking on his neutral face.

"Are you sure?" She handed the vodka over to him anyway, his fingers wrapping carefully around the glass in her hand. He took a slow sip, swallowed and kept it down without making a noise. The corner in his mouth going up in a small grin for the first time. He gave it back to her.

"You're making progress." She had to grin as well. Maybe he was only doing it to distract her, she wondered, but continued talking. "Back in Russia, we were officially not allowed to have any alcohol while in training. Kind of ridiculous if you ask me. And we didn't. At least not when they were looking."

He dropped his head a bit lower, his pale eyes glinting at her.

"We were officially not supposed to do other things either." He rumbled in her direction.

She blinked and pursed her lips. "Is that so?" Said in fake innocence. "That had never seemed to stop you." She replied huskily, stretching one of her legs out in front of her, letting her bare foot slide along the floor.

He shot another grin at her. But she knew what he was doing, trying to redirect their conversation. Her stomach was fluttering nervously, he was trying to avoid whatever she was about to bring up.

_You don't have to do this right now._

_But when else then?_

"What division were you in, back in the army?" She asked suddenly, dropping her flirting look, something firmer entering her voice.

His grin slowly vanished and he sighed, shifting back into the couch cushions. His human hand came up to his face, scratching over the stubble on his chin, gliding down his throat, a gesture that looked so natural on him, but one she hadn't seen before. He hadn't shaved in a few days and she had seen it grow longer again. And honestly, she prefered that look.

"I was part of the 107th. We were stationed all over, but mostly right near enemy lines towards the end of the war." He said finally while exhaling, his voice had turned quiet again.

"You said you had been an excellent sniper even back then, right?" She prodded him.

He nodded slowly.

"Weren't you part of a special ops team because of that?" She was deliberately asking questions that they both knew the answer to. He had seen this information in the museum.

"The Howling Commandos." He said quietly, his eyes never leaving hers.

She subtly took a deep breath, sucking in air through her parted lips. She relaxed her fingers that had started to clutch the glass in her hand. She took another small sip of the clear vodka. It slowly spread warmth in her throat and then in her stomach.

"Who was your team leader?" She asked it softly, but kept her tone firm at the same time.

Barnes narrowed his eyes. The fingers on his human hand tapping silently on the sofa cushion next to him. He didn't answer. She exhaled slowly, felt her breath shaking a bit.

"You know who it is. Just tell me his name." She continued while not dropping the neutral mask she was wearing.

He was shifting slightly uncomfortably now and averted his eyes, staring down onto the wood grain of her coffee table. It had little oil smudges on it from where he had cleaned his weapon, that stood out glistening in the low lights of the lamps from her living room and kitchen. She was staring at him, measuring every reaction of his now tensing body. He looked highly uncomfortable, and she was not expecting a response. She pursed her lips to ask the next question, when he looked up.

"Rogers." He said quietly. "Is that what you want to hear?"

It was out now, her heart hitched. Now it was her who only nodded in response.

"Yes, he was there as my commander." Barnes continued in a low voice. He abruptly shuffled his legs in front of him and pushed himself up. "This conversation is over." He walked past the coffee table and past Natasha's seat.

This was far from over. She put down the glass, just as he passed her, shot up and followed him a couple steps. He was almost to the kitchen when she firmly took his human arm, making him stop and turn. He looked at her irritated.

"You fought him on the Helicarrier about five weeks ago, when it was about to crash into the Triskelion. It was only the two of you. Do you remember? You both fell into the river and you pulled him out." Her eyes were ablaze and piercing him now. Why was he reacting like this? Their bond had been so strong, and despite his brainwashing, why would he react so coldly?

"So?" He turned around again, trying to walk away. His bionic arm was closer to her so she grabbed him by the wrist, making him stop once more. She stepped right in front of him, her eyes staring into his pale irritated ones.

"Steve was your childhood friend." She tried to sound firm, but her voice was starting to quiver. " He told me you both grew up together like brothers, that you lived together like family, and then later served in the army together. You protected him and he did the same for you." Her eyes flitting in between his blank ones.

She swallowed then continued. "He always talks highly of you and that hasn't changed. He told me once that Bucky was the most loyal and honest person he'd ever known."

There was a blink in his eyes and for a second all the blank exterior melted away and all she could see was pure emotional turmoil. A mixture of pain and sadness. And hate. Stemming from the hell he had been through. It was gone again in an instant, when he put his guard back up, his eyes turning empty.

"I'm not Bucky." He said quietly. "Don't call me that."

She pressed her lips together, regretting that she had mentioned that name. She was still clutching his bionic wrist in her hand, but he wasn't pulling away anymore.

"I know you are not." She answered, looking up to him.

He nodded. "But _he_ doesn't. He wouldn't understand." He looked at her calmly and raised his bionic arm in front of him as if to show it, making her hand fall off. She looked at it, then back to him.

"Give him a chance, I'm sure he would accept you either way. He had no idea what happened to you, and he is still out there, searching for you." She pleaded.

He only shrugged with indifferent eyes and let his arm fall by his side again.

"You saved his life on the Helicarrier and there must be a reason for that. I think it was _him_ that caused you to break out of your programming."

Barnes shuffled again, thinking about that fight. He sighed heavily then averted his eyes, looking past her into the living room, sorting through his mind. He cleared his throat and looked back at her with pale blue eyes.

"He said something.." He said quietly. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I had a debt to him and we are even now."

Natasha looked up to him, trying to understand what had happened between them.

"Apparently I was dead to him the entire time. And maybe it should stay so." He paused, thinking of something and his brows furrowed, before he continued.

"You've asked me before if I knew anything about my exhibit in the Smithsonian. I told you, I went to see it. They have turned it into a big memorial. There's a write up, next to a huge photo. _Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, son of Mr. and Mrs. George M. Barnes, member of the 107th Infantry Division and special ops team Howling Commandos, was killed in action in the Swiss Alps. His body was never recovered. He was 28._"

He paused. "I memorized it."

There was a clump in her throat, rendering her unable to talk. She could only imagine the shock of seeing something like that, his own obituary. She had never really given it any thought before.

"Bucky died on a mission with him. Somewhere on the bottom of a mountain." He said it emotionless. It was a fact for him.

"Did I answer all your questions?" He shifted his head at her.

She slowly nodded. Swallowing before she was able to talk again.

"James-" She started. "He's out there looking for you, together with Sam. And so are other parts of SHIELD. They found us once before and they might again. They don't want to harm you. You need to understand that."

"I don't want to be found." He shrugged and turned away, she didn't hold him back that time. He walked towards the garage and his rifle that was lying in parts. He opened the door and stopped.

"Want to come help me?"

She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face.

Maybe the conditioning in the Hydra labs had been too deep, she wondered, erasing all parts of their friendship. He had been programmed over the years to specifically hate anything that was western culture, anything anti-russian, and Steve was the epitome of that. But it was only a guess on her part. She didn't feel any hate for Rogers coming from him now, if anything it was indifference and a mix of emotions.

She wondered what would happen if they ever met again.

Barnes was looking at her expectantly, wanting an answer to his question.

"Sure." She sighed.

000

She had found two cheap folding chairs for them to sit on. She was worried at first that the flimsy plastic wouldn't support his weight, and it creaked under him when he sat down, but it worked all the same. They sat around the small table, her on his left side, and helped him clean each part of the Vintorez with a wet paper towel. They worked in silence and concentrated, him more so than her. She caught herself tapping her foot from time to time, her thoughts drifting off to their conversation and beyond.

He was done with his parts and started assembling the gun again. It was a slow process, since he had taken it completely apart, not just the big main parts it was made of.

"Do you want to go on another mission, soon?" He rumbled suddenly, as he finished the lower receiver, a tiny screwdriver in his human hand. He looked over to her.

"I don't know if I can handle seeing you again with a ponytail." She answered, not looking up, but she heard him laughing. It was an evasive answer. She wasn't sure if there would be a next one, in her mind it had been a one and done situation. That mission had done enough damage.

She looked up now, her face serious.

"This can't continue forever, you know that, right?" She was being realistic here. As long as he was going rogue, there would be people after him, a neverending life on the run. And despite what he made her feel sometimes, the pull she felt to join him, she owed SHIELD a huge debt and she wouldn't forget that.

She would be dead, if _someone_ from her agency hadn't made a different call. And if Fury hadn't introduced her as a member. She knew she'd always be different from others, thanks to her past, but they had accepted her nonetheless, made her feel at home, part of something bigger.

"I don't see why not." He answered.

She didn't reply to him right away, finishing up her task first. Her parts were all lying in order of assembly in front of her. The oil, dust and debris all cleaned off. He had completed three more main parts, starting on the fourth and he didn't need her help anymore with the last pieces. She touched his shoulder, making him look over.

"Because I can't just go and leave everything behind. You on the other hand can. If you left and went on your own, I know they would not find you. You should consider doing that. I'm being serious."

He slowly shook his head, the dark hair partly covering his eyes. "No."

She had almost expected that answer. She felt simultaneously worried for him and somehow relieved, if only for selfish reasons. She got up, the chair sliding over the floor behind her and stepped away.

"Consider it." She said over her shoulder as she walked back inside.

000

Natasha suddenly woke up, disoriented for a moment, freezing up when she couldn't remember where she was. Then relaxed again. The blue flicker of her tv was illuminating the otherwise dark living room. She must have napped in on her couch. Barnes was dozing while sitting on the other end of the sofa with her feet on his lap. He hadn't considered her suggestion and was still here. She hadn't even heard him come back in from the garage, or sit down with her.

She felt not really rested yet, and it was still pitch black outside. Her mouth was dry from the vodka earlier.

She craned her neck backwards to look over to her microwave in the kitchen. The clock showed 4:12 am. She furrowed her brows wondering what had woken her up. Her head went back over to Barnes in the other corner. He was looking at her with dark eyes. She flinched.

He put his bionic hand heavily on her leg, then raised his human hand slowly to his face, putting his index finger over his mouth.

_Shhh._

She nodded, pressing her lips together, not sure what they had heard.

He slowly bent forward and pulled out a Glock from the back of his jeans. Her eyes went wide and she tensed up. Understanding now.

Her front door crashed open under a heavy ramming sound and then everything happened very fast. Barnes ripped her off the couch, pressing her behind him and shot at the first person that came through her door. The bullet hit someone, she could hear it, there were screams. Natasha gritted her teeth, falling immediately into combat mode. Loud yelling filled her house. There were more noises and screams coming from everywhere now as more people crashed in through the front door and windows.

"_SHIELD. Put the weapon down!_"

_"Put your hands up!"_

"_Freeze!_"

He pulled her into the kitchen, where she rolled onto the floor, then he kneeled next to her, peaking around the countertop. He fired one more shot, it also hit, and someone screamed in pain.

"Stop shooting." She hissed at him. Her heart was racing, it was just like she had predicted, SHIELD had found them. She pushed herself up from the floor and sat next to him.

"Put the gun down. Please." She pleaded. He wasn't listening, instead his arm reached over to her, pressing her behind him, out of line of sight.

The yelling had stopped momentarily and she heard several footsteps and boots clatter over her hardwood floor. They were taking position in her living room. A deep male voice spoke up firmly from somewhere in the back.

"Sergeant Barnes. Put down your gun and let the Agent go. The house is surrounded."

She recognized the voice from their former headquarter. Some special ops team leader, that she had met briefly a long time ago in the office. It was truly SHIELD then. She hoped at least.

Barnes turned to her for the first time, his eyes dark and concentrated. The wheels in his head were spinning, thinking hard about the best route to take. He leaned over to her, his mouth in her hair.

"Trust me now."

He forced her face to him and quickly kissed her, then slowly pulled her in front of him, still kneeling, putting his bionic arm around her neck to use her as a shield. He was going to take her hostage, she thought with panic.

"They will kill you, if you do that." She whispered back, trying to pull his arm down to stop him, but the cold metal was like a vice around her throat, holding her tight. He stood up, pulling her easily up with him. She was pressed onto his chest, her head leaning back on his shoulder. He lowered his face close to her, over her right shoulder and she got a whiff of her own shampoo. She didn't struggle, only stood still, but kept both her hands on his arm. If she wanted to she could kick out at him easily, but that was the last thing on her mind. He pointed the gun towards the living room. She counted no less than six armed agents, clad in black combat armor, all pointing rifles at them. One more was in the back, holding his bleeding leg, squirming. The team lead in front spoke up again.

_Simons? Wasn't that his name? _She couldn't remember clearly. She recognized at least two more faces that she had met before in briefings.

"Lower your gun and let her go. Otherwise we are forced to take extreme measures." Simons' voice was firm, coming from behind his rifle.

Barnes glowered at them, his arm still calmly stretched out, the gun pointing at the operations leader. He was still going through the options in his head.

She realized something that froze her veins. He had been holding himself back the entire time, pretty much since they had busted through the door. Otherwise this would be a bloodbath by now. He was more deadly with one Glock than seven agents with a rifle each. He could have taken out each and every one of them with ease. Her breath was going evenly, same as his, feeling his torso rise and fall slowly into her back.

She whispered to him, barely moving her mouth so only he could hear. For the first time since she had met him, she spoke in her native russian tongue to him.

"_Surrender. It will be ok. Believe me for once._"

He was still not moving, holding the Glock unwavering, but his tight grip on her throat eased a little. The SHIELD agents in front of them were shuffling just slightly and she could feel the thick tension in the air. She breathed in deep once, twice and squeezed his bionic arm, just barely.

He slowly took his arm off her neck, the hard metal leaving her skin, freeing her, then lowered his gun. She took a couple steps forward, away from him.

"Gun on the floor. Now!" Simons barked.

Barnes clicked the safety on and let it clatter to the floor, kicking it away with bare feet. The team moved closer, rifles drawn at his head. Someone grabbed Natasha and pulled her into the living room.

"On your knees! Hands behind your head."

Barnes' dark eyes flitted to her. He pulled a corner of his mouth into a grin for just a second, before he slowly went down on his knees, clasping his hands behind his head. He was only going along with it because she had asked him to, a rising panic in her again.

She shook her head slowly, trying to get him not to lash out suddenly, not sure what he was planning. But they put him into heavy handcuffs without resistance. She noticed the strange glint of the metal. _Vibranium coated. _He would really not get out of those, she thought, swallowing.

One of the agents was pulling her down the hallway by her arm and she harshly wrung herself free, pushing him away. She could walk out by her own damn self. More uniformed agents were pouring in through her busted front door, which hung broken in a wrong angle. She lost sight of Barnes in the chaos.

"Agent Romanoff." A clear, female voice called her, as Natasha stepped on the front porch. Her street was full of black SUVs and a couple armored transporters, SHIELD agents running around. Director Hill strode up the few steps quickly and Natasha could see both concern and relief in the other woman's face. She stopped right in front of her.

"I am glad to see you alive, Agent. Welcome back." Hill said somewhat firmly. But then her usual stoic face turned into a warm expression. "I knew you'd make it through, Natasha." She added in a more personal voice.

Natasha took a deep breath, too many conflicting emotions whirling in her. It would be another long night, without a doubt.

* * *

**Yep, SHIELD is back in the story, and so is Steve. Or at least his name. I can't tell if this turn of events will be popular or not, I always get mixed reactions, haha.**

**Anyway, story is not over yet. Hope you guys enjoy!**


	25. The Offer

Chapter 25 - The Offer

**A/N**: This turned into a long one again. I wanted to draw it out even more, but decided to reduce it to this to keep the plot going. Thanks for all the amazing and inspiring reviews! Btw, there are definitely AU elements in this story and this chapter, but I'm trying to make them look plausible. Hope you all enjoy!

Also, I feel bad about the inconsistent formatting from chapter to chapter. Maybe I'll go back and fix it all when I have some time.

Mature content ahead.

* * *

The sun was slowly rising behind the skyline in the distance, basking D.C. into a beautiful morning light. A thin stripe of clouds hung on the horizon and was coming closer, announcing that the nice start into the day wouldn't last long. Even with the rain eventually rolling in, it was a pretty view of the city up here on the 18th floor. Nothing compared to the former sight from the Triskelion though, she thought.

Natasha was staring absentmindedly out of the huge windows of the otherwise empty conference room. She sat in one of the cushioned office chairs, pulled up to a giant old-fashioned mahogany table that could easily seat 20 people, a cup of coffee slowly getting cold in front of her. The old table stood in contrast to the high tech equipment installed throughout the room. Modern, large displays were hanging on the back wall of it, humming quietly with nothing to show on them. It was definitely one of their nicer briefing rooms.

They had shuttled Natasha directly to the West headquarter after they had rescued her and taken Barnes into custody.

_Rescued_. At least that was the story so far.

There had been a small briefing in the car already, Natasha had made clear that she wasn't injured or in need of counseling services, and she had almost laughed out loud at that thought. She bit her lower lip. Well, maybe she should take the offer and get her head checked anyway, after all she's had slept with the man who had once been sent to kill her.

That made twice now.

She noticed that she was tapping her foot against the leg of her chair and stopped. Under her calm exterior, she was antsy, nervous and barely able to sit still. But did so anyway, waiting for Maria Hill and whoever else to come join her. Natasha had a whole lot of things to take care of, and sitting here seemed like a waste of time. But she was trying to appease Hill.

She had been racking her brain the entire morning on how to explain her time with Barnes. There were a couple of options that came to her mind. She could go the safe route and say she didn't want to see him again. That would take care about keeping the messed-up relationship they had under the covers. No chance at being discovered as them posing as more than captor and victim. It was all about self-preservation, something that was ingrained into her.

But she never gave any real thought to that, playing the victim card was not high on her to-do list. She had asked Barnes for his trust, and even though telling lies was part of who she was, she wouldn't betray him just like that. Deep down she knew what she ultimately wanted. The relationship they had formed, as strange as it was — she wished to continue it. How this would work out now that he was here, she wasn't sure. But if she could convince Maria that he wasn't a threat, there might be a way.

She needed him to cooperate if she went that route, and she wasn't sure how he would take it. He wasn't fond of her agency, not at all, so this was a dangerous playing ground.

Barnes had pretty much come with them because he wanted to, that had been clear to Natasha. The last he had seen of him was when he was kneeling in her kitchen, being handcuffed. He could have easily killed everyone in that room, she thought icily. Her heart had been hammering, half expecting him to do just that at any second, after he had thrown her that smile. But he hadn't fought back, as far as she knew, and in the back of her mind she wondered why he had surrendered so easily. There was an intention to it. He wouldn't have done it without having something in mind.

The door opened suddenly behind her, but Natasha didn't move while listening to the tapping of several footsteps coming in, a few voices talking amongst each other.

"How are you doing, Romanoff?" Deputy Director Hill sat down across from her, a stack of papers and folders, a tablet and her phone in hand, letting it all drop on the table. Several other agents sat down to the left and right of her. She recognized all of them, but had never worked closely with any of those men. There was Simons, the team leader from this morning, the one who had ordered Barnes around. Still clad in his armor, his muscles showing under the black shirt. He reminded her of the former Strike team. Just a bit. But that wasn't exactly a fair comparison, since they had all been moles. Then there was Grant, the chief security officer. Young, a newly appointed assistant to Hill. Smith, a high ranking intelligence specialist officer, all dressed in blue uniforms. She had half expected Rogers to walk into the door, but there was no sign of him. Seemed like Hill wanted to keep it within SHIELD.

"Fine." Natasha responded, gazing at everyone around the table, some were looking at her expectantly, some had their heads turned to the screen already.

"These are all that are joining us, for the moment." Hill spoke as she shuffled her papers into a neat stack, looking up to Natasha. She wore her hair in her usual neat bun, pinned to the back of her head and had dressed in her dark blue SHIELD uniform. The same from when they had met on Natasha's porch this morning, still looking neat and tidy on her. Hill always seemed to carry herself with an air of authority, looking calm and collected despite what had transpired during the night. Natasha could only imagine how frazzled her own white shirt, jeans and unkempt hair must appear.

Not that she cared what they thought of her.

"I'm not sure if someone has brought you up to speed yet. I know you were probably expecting Fury here." Hill snapped her out of her thoughts. "Nick is undercover in Europe right now, following a Hydra trail, and he will be gone for the foreseeable future. He is not operating under SHIELD anymore." Hill paused. "I don't need to tell you that this information is extremely confidential and only a very small circle of agents know at the moment. To the public Fury is still presumed dead."

Those news somewhat surprised her. She knew that Fury wasn't in the picture at the moment, but Europe? That meant Hill was completely in charge now.

"Yes, I've been briefed." She answered, which was only a half-lie.

"Good. Let's cut to the chase then."

000

Natasha carefully rubbed her eyes, hoping her makeup was still hiding her bruise. It wouldn't make a good impression if it showed after trying to explain to everyone that Barnes hadn't harmed her. Coming out of the first meeting, it had felt like the longest two hours of her life.

Natasha was walking next to Hill down one of the long, brightly lit hallways. They didn't pass a lot of other people on this floor, due to the required security rank to enter it. The entire 20th level they were on contained most of their briefing areas, along with a lot of smaller private offices. Natasha's being one of them. Modern glass panels were lining the corridor walls, giving transparence to other office areas and would turn opaque if needed. Natasha caught her own reflection in them as she walked by in big strides, her hair flowing over her shoulders.

She had to explain herself over and over again of what had happened during her twelve days with Barnes. They had gotten the superficial version of course. A small file on the Winter Soldier had been displayed on all monitors, showing very few examples of his successful assassinations over the last years, reaching back to the 1960's. It was undeniable how lethal he had been, and that he still was deep down, but Natasha had forced them to consider what had changed in him in the past weeks. She had downplayed her own abduction a lot, not mentioning the real fear she had been in, after being asked about it. Explaining that he had only wanted her technical skills for something, which was partly the truth.

She now looked over to Hill as they walked. They had all been very skeptical about Barnes, and who would blame them, with his crimes displayed in front of them. But Hill had been willing to listen.

Natasha felt like the new director was trying to believe her, wanted to believe that something could be done about their former enemy. Hill had noticed her glance.

"McCrowskey and Hayes were sent straight to surgery after the shoot out this morning. They both suffered gunshot wounds to the leg, fortunately nothing fatal." Hill spoke up. "I need to know how dangerous he still is for us, Natasha."

Natasha was silent for a moment, gritting her teeth.

"He's dangerous when it comes to his former organization. But he wouldn't harm anyone else, unless provoked. Barnes didn't shoot to kill earlier." She paused, listening to their footsteps echo on the walls. "I do believe we can help him. I would like to continue working with him."

Hill stopped in the middle of the hallway. Natasha followed her idea and turned to her.

"Even after he has forcefully kept you with him? You want to continue?" Hill looked at her unbelieving.

She stood straight, looking Maria in the eyes. "Yes. He's willing to listen to me." Although she wasn't so sure. "I've handled tougher guys before and you know I'm good at it." She cocked an eyebrow at Hill, her face full of confidence, masking all the other uncertainties she felt.

Hill measured her and started walking again.

"I'm considering to call Rogers in, but I'd like to keep the issue within the agency, at least for the moment." Hill stated quietly. "I'm willing to see past Barnes' crimes, if we can get him to side with us. He would be invaluable. But I'm seeing a long way ahead of us before that happens."

Natasha's mouth almost gaped open. She had never expected that reaction from Hill, she was almost lost for words. Maria was usually resolute and stoic in her opinions, not easy to forgive anyone that harmed the people who worked for her. So this came as a total surprise. She was willing to give Barnes a chance.

Of course there had to be a reason for that, she didn't just do it from the kindness of her heart. Natasha wondered what it was, but Barnes had told her so himself. They badly wanted to get their hands on him.

_He would be invaluable._

Two reasons came to her and Natasha thought she understood now. It all smelled of a plan originally developed by Fury, one that Hill was carrying out now. It had never been just about rescuing Natasha or having Rogers find his old childhood friend.

Fury would recognize an opportunity, even if it meant to capture and persuade the man that had almost killed him. They wanted the Winter Soldier's superior combat and tactical skills for themselves, now that he was in a state of limbo. SHIELD's own personal deadly assassin to silently hunt down enemies. And he would make an extremely useful addition, no doubt.

The less obvious reason was that Barnes carried a huge wealth of knowledge around with him, if he knew it or not. But somewhere stored in his brain were insider information on Hydra since its early founding days. Even if it were just scraps, he would know the locations of Hydra bases worldwide, as well as their hierarchy structure and operating members to some extend. There had been long periods of time where he had been off the ice, enough to gather a lot of background knowledge. Data that wasn't written down anywhere, and had not been exposed in the leak. A huge amount of intelligence that could cripple Hydra greatly.

Maybe it was a combination of the above. But _yes_, she could see how he was _invaluable_.

Natasha wasn't all too sure that Barnes was willing to give SHIELD any of that, his distaste for them was too great. He had come here for another reason, that was obvious to her. He was choosing freely on who to partner with and he had made up his mind already, and her agency wasn't included. Unless she could persuade him a little, at least to show that he was cooperative. But he could be bullheaded and his stubbornness was worrying her. Natasha swallowed, he might laugh into Maria's face, ruining his chances.

They were coming up on one of the tactical briefing rooms. Barnes would be in there, guarded and handcuffed. She wished she could see him in private somehow before they talked officially, but that was out of the question. There was a nervous clump in her stomach, fearing he might say something wrong now in front of Maria. Revealing too much about the both of them.

Hill slowed down, coming to a stop in front of the slick door. She turned to Natasha. "You are not obliged to do this job, after what you have gone through. I want to make that clear."

Natasha pulled her mouth into a thin smile. "Can you think of anyone better? Of course I'll do it."

000

Director Hill walked in first and Natasha followed, their shoes clicking over the smooth floor. Natasha was still wearing her dirty hiking boots, the first thing she had grabbed this morning, they sounded heavy compared to Hill's heels.

The room was huge, too big for the few people that were in it. All blinds on the long windowed wall had been lowered, and only grey, filtered afternoon light shone in, making the interior appear half gloomy. There were displays and work stations in the back, but they were not in use or needed. A modern white table was sitting near the front, that could seat up to ten people. Now it only seated one.

Barnes was sitting on a long side by himself, half-facing the door they had just come in. His hands were still uncomfortably bound behind his back, leaning back in a plain chair. His head was cast down, hair spilling over his face. Natasha's pulse went up as she saw him.

Only five guards were in the room, all holding rifles ready in their hands. She couldn't believe there weren't more, along with securing him better. Was Hill underestimating him that greatly? Natasha furrowed her brows. There had been a lot of personnel changes in the last months, having lost their entire Strike team, among other casualties, maybe she just didn't have the resources to spare more men. Still, this was Barnes, the Winter Soldier.

They nodded at the guards, then sat down across from him. Natasha noisily pulled her chair back and exhaled slowly while sitting down to the right side of Maria, laying her hands folded on the table. Her stomach was laying in nervous knots. She really, really hoped this would go well, that he would be willing to work with her now.

She leaned forward slightly in her chair, being only a few feet apart from him. He still wasn't looking up, as if he was dozing, with his chin on his chest. Natasha took the time to muster him. He was wearing his clothes from yesterday, just like herself, down to the flannel jacket that she had liked on him. His hair was tangled and wavy, parting slightly in the front. His stubbled chin with its dimple rested on his chest and his lips were parted a little, breathing slowly.

Hill had put her tablet and phone onto the table and cleared her throat now.

"Sergeant." Her voice was clear. Natasha heard just a small uncertainty in it, facing the man that had come so close to killing Fury. He finally rose his head and she hadn't believed for a second that he was sleeping or otherwise out of it. His hair fell aside as he sat up straight with clear eyes, a small smile appearing on his mouth as he saw her.

Natasha scanned his face and her eyes went wide. "What the hell.. what happened?"

He had a huge oval bruise on his temple, over his right eyebrow. It was a swollen and several hours old. The skin had busted open in a tiny spot, a small trail of crusted blood coming out of it, going down to the brow. Someone had butted him in the head with a gun, a large one.

"When did that happen?" Hill asked sharply. She was just as irritated.

His eyes went between the two women, then settled on Natasha. "Doesn't matter." He answered with a slightly hoarse voice, having not talked in a while. He cocked his head to side.

Natasha looked over to Maria now. "Tell Simons I'll have a word with him and his men." She said between her teeth. Anger was rising in her. They had hit him cowardly while he was in restraints. At the same time she wondered how Barnes had remained that calm.

"I apologize for that." Hill's eyes pierced Barnes. "They will be disciplined. Behavior like this is not tolerated under my watch."

He was watching Maria, indifference coming into his eyes. When he had agreed to come here, he had expected this to happen, unlike Natasha. He looked like it didn't bother him at all, having been treated much worse in his life than just a blow to the face. The last thing he wanted was their pity, Natasha knew just by looking at him. She had never wanted any in her life either. Still, it made her so angry, why had she told him to surrender again? And why had he come willingly? Her eyes averted to his chest, and now she saw tiny red blood drops on his shirt and jacket, unsure if it was his or not.

Hill cleared her throat now. "I don't think we have met. Maria Hill, Director of SHIELD." She nodded at him, getting no reaction. "And you are James Buchanan Barnes, is that correct?"

"Yep." He said finally.

"Good. Agent Romanoff has briefed us about the past two weeks. As it turns out there have been new developments and I'm interested in your opinion on them. I have a few questions regarding what happened since you were last seen."

A smile was creeping back on his blank face as he looked at Maria. He relaxed back in his chair, his bionic wrist clanking against the metal of the cuffs. Natasha suddenly wasn't so sure that even the vibranium would keep him contained, if he really wanted out of them. But he didn't make a move to break them. He was waiting patiently, it seemed.

"Shoot." He ordered Maria.

"Are you still working under Hydra orders?" She asked him straight out.

"No."

"When did that change?"

"When I broke their necks to get out their base." He said neutrally.

Hill narrowed her eyes at that. Natasha recognized that he didn't want to mention anything involving Rogers or the whole string of events.

"Are you working for anyone else now?" Hill was shuffling slightly next to her.

"Myself."

"I see." Hill was eyeing him and looked at his left shoulder where the bionic arm was hidden under the jacket.

"I realize that this is a sensitive topic, but we only have little information on what happened to you, after you were recovered by Soviet forces. Back when the war had ended."

Barnes didn't say anything to that.

"You were subjected to involuntary conditioning?" She inquired, but there was almost something like sympathy in her voice.

He slowly nodded.

"How much of that is still left?"

He just shrugged as if bored, instead of giving a clear reply. Natasha's eyes went slightly wider. _That was the wrong answer to that question_. Hill didn't like his reaction either. She clasped her hands in front of her.

"I'm considering making you an offer Sergeant Barnes, but I need to know how far we can trust you."

Barnes shuffled slightly in his chair, clanking the handcuffs again, his head dropped a bit lower.

"I'm fully in control of myself." His eyes were a shade darker, spoken in a firm voice. He sounded quite convincing, but Natasha knew better. Her mind was racing if she should speak up or not. She stayed quiet.

"Good. How much do you remember from working under Hydra? Has it been coming back to you?" Hill was staring at him with serious eyes.

"There are a few different missions that I know in detail." Barnes held her gaze and Natasha was glad he wasn't looking over to her.

"I'd be interested in hearing about them." Hill paused. "We have been monitoring Hydra activity around the world for many years with a number of allies. Taking out threats as they come up."

Barnes cocked his head. He would have been considered one of those threats.

"Could you imagine yourself working alongside with us to go against Hydra?"

Now he stared at Maria blankly. Natasha held her breath. _He won't. He hates us._

"Depends."

Hill looked at him for a moment. "Well." She paused. "What I'm going to offer you is the following: You can stay here, with us. We can provide you with a place to live and offer aid in your recovery, as well as help with your memory loss. As it seems, we have a common enemy that we both want eradicated. That is if you agree to work with us." Hill stated and Natasha wanted to roll her eyes but didn't. As if this was a voluntary offer and Barnes was free to leave if he didn't take it. She mentally commended Hill on wording it so nicely though.

"Ah." Barnes leaned back a bit more, understanding the underlying intention just as much. "Where are my belongings? The armor and weapons?" He asked suddenly.

That threw Hill off slightly, her forehead frowning. "I believe it is all seized and secured."

"I'll want it all back." He all but demanded. _Not a good timing to bring that up_. Natasha was afraid he'd say something wrong now and spoke up.

"We can see what we can do." She answered quickly for the first time, falling Hill in her word. "You'll have to cooperate with _me_ before you start making demands." She said firmly, piercing him with her deep green eyes, a plea in them to take the offer.

"Are you up for that or not?" She said somewhat impatient, wanting to nail him down and commit already.

Barnes turned his head to her, a small glint coming into his eyes, his mouth turning into a smile. He could look downright charming if he wanted to. He was making a sweet face that had surely worked on a lot of ladies before.

"Yep. I am up for that." His smile was innocent. "I'd love to work more closely with you, Miss Romanoff."

000

Natasha stood in front of her office, typing in a security code on the panel next to the door. It smoothly opened with a small hiss.

The meeting with Barnes had gone a bit better than she had given him credit for. In the end he had agreed to Maria's terms, not that Natasha believed for a second that he was completely telling the truth. But at least she could keep a close eye on him that way. Hill would organize a secured quarter for him, wherever that may be, since the apartment floors were filled up by agents.

Natasha stepped through the door, the lights flickering on automatically. She had some things to take care of in the meantime. Her office had been hastily put together after the Triskelion had turned into ashes and she shared it with Rogers and Barton, but neither had made use of it yet. Their desks were in disarray and untouched. Barton hadn't even been in the country for the past months.

She had been surprised when they had given Steve an office to use. He wasn't even truly under the command of SHIELD, only a powerful ally who they wanted to keep around. In her mind, Steve didn't seem like an office kind of guy, sitting and working on a computer. Nope. But then again, nobody of them did.

She had visited this room only a few times right after it had been newly set up. The interior was spacious and modern, three desks were arranged in the middle, along with more work stations and displays on two of the walls, a huge window on the other, showing off a rainy late afternoon. A nice office. Sad that it got used so little.

She marched over to her desk, it still looking the way she had left it. Except for the large-sized brown box on it. It was taped shut and had no name or writing on it. There were two more boxes on the floor, she discovered when she stepped around her desk. An idea of what it all was danced into her mind, a smile appearing on her neutral face. Her hand dug in one of her desk drawers, fishing out a small knife. She cut into the tape of first box with a quick slash, folding it open.

_Please, let this be what I think it is._

The flaps folded up and she immediately recognized her wallet lying on top of several other things. A small excitement flooded her, going like electricity through her stomach. She reached in and picked it up, examined all the small compartments. It contained all her money, credit cards and driver's license. Apparently nothing was missing. _Thank god._ She laid it aside on her desk and dug back into the box. Next was her backpack with some personal items, house keys and various other ones, some papers, maps and notes.

And then, on the bottom of the box, her cellphone. It was in there too and she was suddenly aware of how much she had missed that stupid little piece of technology now that she was holding it in her hands again. She connected it to a cable and turned it on for the first time, letting it load up.

She cut the second box open. It contained some of her clothes, shoes, bathroom items, things she had left behind in the cabin. As well as her car keys. That meant they had brought her 4Runner here and it was waiting for her somewhere in the parking lot. _This keeps getting better_. She stuffed the keys into the back pocket of her jeans.

Then came the third box and when the flaps folded up, her knees went weak momentarily. A flat, grey smooth top greeted her on the bottom of it. _Her personal laptop_. She reached into the box with both hands and picked it up, feeling something underneath it. A second laptop. The Hydra one, with Barnes' broken file on it, that was left behind at the farmhouse. Agents had seized it all. She was almost shaking with excitement. It was all here, everything, safely in her office.

She plopped down into her chair, breathing a long sigh of relief.

Now she could examine exactly what had happened to Barnes' old file, maybe even try to recover parts of it with the tools she had available. It would be tedious, but worth it.

During her first meeting earlier that day, they had looked through a file on him, but she had immediately seen that it was only a small one. The superficial info on the Winter Soldier that Pierce had kept somewhere. Where was the real file? The one Natasha herself had extracted. Was Hill not showing it to her on purpose, or did she not have it? She guessed the latter, if they were so adamant about getting information from Barnes. Another loose end she did not understand at the moment.

Her eyes gazed over the rest of her desk, filled with papers and files. She had left all those herself. Something small glinted under the fluorescent lights on one of the stacks. She reached over and picked it up. Her SHIELD ID card. Natasha twisted it around a few times in her hands, looking down on her photo and her security clearing.

She clasped it onto her belt.

She looked at her phone again, seeing that it had finished booting up. Several missed calls and messages greeted her and she flipped through them quickly. Most numbers were from works, but some she couldn't recognize. She'd look at them in length later. Instead she leaned back in her chair for a moment.

It was quiet in her office, the computers were humming silently and she heard the small pitter patter of rain on her window. The clouds had fully moved in, covering the sky and turning the interior greyish. She sighed loudly, just for herself. This would be her temporary home for now, until she could find a new apartment, outside of their headquarter. For a second she thought with a pang of regret about the house she had to give up now, but the feeling was gone in an instant. She didn't look back, only forward.

Her stomach growled annoyingly.

000

It was loud in the cafeteria, but that was usually the case. Agents and personnel of all jobs were walking and chatting or just sitting quietly and eating their meals in the huge, bright room. Located on the second floor, just over the lobby, it had a lower and upper level with modern interior, big windows and potted plants throughout, giving it a spacious feel. Still, Natasha never came here that much. Her hunger had won anyway and this was the closest place.

She was holding her green tray in front of her, standing in a short line at the food counter. The mushy grey weather outside was turning darker, evening approaching. Maybe she should have taken a shower first and a change of clothes, she thought, looking down on her wrinkled white shirt.

The line moved up and she grabbed the next random thing she saw, a cold sandwich, then strode over to one of the self checkouts and swiped her card. Two younger network engineers, a young man with a good natured smile and a woman in a brown ponytail nodded at her friendly when she passed them, she shot them a smile. Then walked with her tray to a far back corner and sat down alone.

She had heard some of the rumors going on. Something about moving the main operations of SHIELD, whatever was left, into the Stark Tower in New York. Tony had apparently made the offer just recently. His tower was just as, if not more advanced, than the Triskelion had been. It would be a huge opportunity for her agency to rebuild itself and she felt they might go with that offer. Natasha wasn't too happy about that. She disliked that city. Had done so even before the Battle of New York.

She was flipping through the news feed on her phone. Ridiculous how dependent she immediately made herself on technology. The news had nothing truly interesting on it and her mind kept going to Barnes. Had they given him a quarter already? It had been several hours. It reminded her on something else. In the first meeting they hadn't told her how exactly they had suddenly found the two of them, hiding out in Natasha's house. Hill hadn't mentioned Castillo in any way and Natasha was starting to doubt that it had led to their discovery. She was curious what else had given it away and made a mental note to get that information from Hill.

The cafeteria was bustling with activity now, people were buying dinners or snacks, or getting ready for the night shift. It was strange to be surrounded by it all again. Some people gave her friendly nods when they passed, some threw her strange looks, but she was used to that part. She sometimes felt like the main attraction with everyone staring at her. Her days during the Avengers Initiative had brought her huge exposure, as well as what she had done recently. So much for subtlety. Natasha returned to devouring her bland, cold turkey sandwich, flipping through her phone with an absent mind.

Someone sat down across from her suddenly, making her look up mid bite. Maria Hill had found her amidst the masses.

"We are going to keep him on the 20th, it's the only option at the moment. One of the empty offices will have to do. Security measures are already in place for that floor and I'll have him situated in the lesser used wing." Hill cut right to the point, speaking very quietly. "He won't be able to leave that floor by himself, in case he tries."

Natasha had put her sandwich down on the plate, not replying.

"What do you think about him? I'm not sure I fully trust his intentions." Hill continued, a serious look on her face.

She was torn on what to answer. The truth would only hurt his case. "I'm intent on finding out." Natasha answered quietly. Hill gave a quick nod in response.

"His presence here is absolutely confidential. Only a handful of agents are aware and it needs to stay that way. Aside from Rogers, there are probably other people looking for him as well."

"Are you going to notify him?" Natasha asked, her voice barely audible.

"I might soon." Hill answered vaguely. "If it helps him to cooperate." Natasha wasn't so sure it would, but didn't say anything.

"I'm going to need full access to him." Natasha said suddenly, no motion on her face.

Hill shifted her head to the side, thinking.

"Maria, I can handle him." She said quiet but firmly. Natasha felt like she was betraying Barnes just a bit by talking about him that way.

Hill finally agreed. "I'm setting up a security clearing, it will only work for you." She paused. "I need to know about any first signs of trouble."

Natasha nodded in response, her red hair moving as it spilled down her shoulders.

000

She had silently walked past two of Simons' men guarding one end of an empty corridor, a box with food from the cafeteria in her hands. She still wasn't sure who of them had hit Barnes. Maybe it really didn't matter. Her eyes glanced into some of the unused offices on this part of the floor. They were in disarray after a lot of equipment had been stored in them, while some stood completely vacant. SHIELD still hadn't successfully moved into this building yet and she saw signs of some of the chaos everywhere. But no other people were up here, like Hill had promised her.

She stopped at one of the offices, checking for the correct number, then swiped her ID and entered a code. The door slid open and she walked into the small space. It was basked in warm light from the ceiling fixture, a desk in plain view, a window with half-closed blinds across from her and an old leather couch along a wall. It looked like someone's private office. She took a few steps in, not hearing a sound except for a quiet hum of a distant ventilation system.

"Is that for me?"

Natasha whirled around. Barnes was standing next to the door where she had just entered, his arms crossed in front of his chest, leaning on the wall. He was grinning at her.

"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "I figured you were hungry. It's from the cafeteria."

She walked up to him and pressed it into his hands. He took the box grinning, then walked past her and sat down on the couch and opened it up. Natasha took a good look around. It was a medium sized room, luckily not too small. The desk was unused, but it had a computer on it anyway. A screen that might function as a tv was installed on the wall across from the couch. She wondered if all that was connected to the network. There was a second door in the corner near the exit that probably led to a bathroom.

She walked over and stopped at the desk a few feet across from him, leaning against the edge. The couch he was sitting on had to function as his bed, she figured. It looked old and worn, the brown leather cracked in many spots, but it looked comfortable all the same. It would do. Better than what she had at the moment, she thought with a sour face.

Barnes was devouring the two wrap sandwiches she had brought him.

"You got a room even before I was assigned one. Guess we know who the important one is." She said with some sarcasm.

"Plenty of space here for two." He rumbled between bites.

Natasha shook her head. "Out of the question. And you know it."

Barnes didn't react, too caught up in his food. Natasha still couldn't believe she was able to meet him alone, but they both had done a convincing job when talking to Maria. A question was burning on her mind. One among many. She wasn't sure if this room was bugged or not, but Maria had seemed to fully trust her, hopefully not seeing the need.

"Why did you agree to come here?" She asked him quietly. Barnes looked up to her, chewing.

"Weren't you the one that asked me to?" He took another bite.

"Yeah. But that's not the reason you went."

"Maybe I just really wanted to see where you work." He answered with a full mouth, smirking. "Nice place."

Natasha rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms and let her eyes wander again, she had been staring at the big bruise on his face. She looked over to the window, seeing the dark grey city through the blinds behind it, rain drops running down on the glass. Maybe it was better if he didn't say the real reason out loud.

"If you cooperate you might see the rest of the building, there's lots more to it." She talked towards the window.

"Do you want me to cooperate?" He asked her quietly, licking a human finger.

She looked back to him and shrugged. "You are partly my responsibility now. It wouldn't hurt if you tried."

"Your boss is quite trusting of me." He dropped the empty food box on the floor and leaned back on the couch. His sleeves were rolled up and the bionic arm was gleaming in the light.

"Don't count on it." She replied. "This floor is pretty secure." A bad feeling was creeping into her, she was treating him like a prisoner. Which he basically was. She gritted her teeth. Then pushed away from the desk and sat down right next to him, her right thigh pressing into his left. He was watching her. She turned to him and leaned over his shoulder to talk quietly, just in case someone was listening. His clothes were smelling intensely like him so close up, and he probably needed a shower, but the scent was making her weak anyway.

"They are wanting information from you, at least that's my guess. I doubt they will let you leave even if you give it to them." She looked at the dark strands falling to the side of his face and the stubble running down on the side of his neck.

"I know what they want." He said quietly. He leaned over her and his human hand reached down towards her pants and for a moment she panicked, but he only took her ID card in his fingers and looked at it, twisting it.

"That alone won't get you out either." She whispered, reading his mind. He let the card go again and leaned back, looking into her eyes.

"Who says I want to go yet?" He grinned. "Your security here seems really pathetic either way." He looked around the room.

"They are trying to trust you, so don't do anything." She was asking him firmly, following his gaze. The room was so plain, there was nothing personal in it.

"I'll get you some clothes and whatever else you need. Bathroom stuff." She promised him. He had leaned back into the couch again his bionic arm pressing into her.

"What do you think, maybe some books, movies or magazines? Garden & Gun subscription?" She grinned. That joke went completely over his head.

"I don't know." He shrugged. She changed topics.

"They have a gym here and it's pretty nice. Maybe we can go sometime." She suggested.

Barnes grinned at the thought. "Definitely."

She started getting up. "I have some errands to run and it's getting late. I need to get all that stuff together." He pulled her back down on his lap, his hands gliding not so subtly over her shirt and jeans. She almost had to laugh at what he was doing.

"I'm not carrying any weapons." She grabbed his human wrist and put it down. "I'll figure out where your clothes are. And even the weapons, but that won't happen right away."

She got up again and he let her go that time. She walked towards the door and turned around one more time. "I'll be back in a bit."

000

The first thing she did was walk back into her office and take a bundle of her own clothes, then she took the elevator to the 5th, and walked towards the gym. The public showers were empty at this time and she was in and out, drying her hair quickly, and feeling much better about herself. With her make-up gone, she let her hair spill down over the right side of her face, covering the bruise.

In the back of the gym they had a big public laundry area where she took a few towels and even some plain workout clothing that were freely available. She stuffed it all into a big laundry bag and threw it over her shoulder. She'd have to go by her house tomorrow and get her personal things and whatever he owned out of there. She zipped to the second floor and walked to a small convenience store, past the cafeteria, buying him a razor and shaving cream, toothbrush and paste, soap if he needed one, some soft drinks and snacks and put it all in the bag as well.

The elevator was humming quietly going back up. Natasha leaned on the back wall. She wondered what they would brand her if they knew she's had sex with one of Hydra's most lethal weapons. Sick? Depraved? A traitor? Usually she wouldn't care what others thought of her, but this was an exception. This would have consequences. She had been wondering if Hill or one of her subordinates were monitoring her, the guards probably reported back to Simons. Her biggest fear was still that they would be discovered, and that could happen under no circumstances.

By the time she came back into his dark room it was approaching 10pm. He had apparently taken a shower and was sitting on his couch watching tv, only wearing his jeans. She was suddenly unsure about having come back.

"I can't stay long." The bag slid off her shoulder and she let it drop on the floor.

Barnes was leaning into the couch and silently watched her with dark eyes, shadows cast on his face, the tv being the only source of light. Her eyes hung on his bare chest and abs, the hip bones just over the waistband. He abruptly got up and stalked over to her, slow and deliberate, until he was right in front of her. Natasha tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes at him, seeing in his face what he wanted.

"You can stay here all night." He said quietly.

"No. I can't." She licked her lips. "You and I, it needs to stay between us. Everything is on the line for me." She said in a barely audible whisper. A small grin appeared on his face.

"Are you afraid they'll find out we fu–"

Her hand was over his mouth before he could blink, her eyes piercing him. His eyebrows went up in surprise at her reaction. He reached up and gently took off her hand from his face again, holding her by the wrist, then pulled her closer to him. He brushed his face against her hair on the side.

"I can keep a secret." He whispered.

He felt so warm against her, his abs hard against her belly, his scent making her knees weak. His lips lowered down on hers, his warm wet tongue feeling in harsh contrast to the stubble pricking her face. One of his hands got busy under her shirt. _It's wrong, I shouldn't do this, not here. _But the collecting heat between her legs betrayed her. He pulled back from her and laid his human hand flat on her chest, walking her backwards into the room, until her butt hit the desk behind her.

She looked up to him with dark eyes, seeing his need. She was feeling it too.

"Kind of like old times, isn't it?" He grinned. And for a moment she was back in the Red Room, he was her mentor and she had felt such pride.. and more for him.

Then his fingers were pressing hard into her sides, hoisting her on the desk, while his thighs forced her legs apart. Her hands held onto his arms, one warm, the other hard and cold but heating under her touch. She felt him push and grind against her lap, that pressure alone making her throb. Barnes took the sides of her shirt, lifting it slowly up over her belly and bra, and she held her arms up for him to slide it over her head. He flung it on the floor and only watched her silently, his gaze going over her breasts and her chest rising and falling in front of him.

She put her arms behind her and leaned back on them, piercing him with her dark green eyes defiantly, narrowing her brows as if to challenge him.

Barnes smirked leaning over her and suddenly brought his human hand behind her head, yanking her hair back, exposing her throat to him. Natasha gasped, but sat still. His bionic hand laid heavy on her thigh, the fingers digging deeply into the flesh. He bent forward and latched his tongue onto the end of her collarbone and slowly licked his way up, over the skin of her neck, tracing the outlines of muscles in it, under her jaw, and finally stopping his wet trail at her right ear. She shivered slightly under his touch, her breath going faster.

"Do you want me?" He asked quietly, his lips brushing over her skin.

"Yes." She whispered.

He relaxed his grip on her hair and she brought her head forward again. She pulled her mouth into a thin smile and placed her hand flatly on his bare chest, giving him some resistance, then moved it slowly down on him. Her fingers traced his muscles, going over his belly, down to his hips, where she reached his jeans. She quickly unbuttoned him and slipped inside. Her hand tightened around him, feeling him stiffen under her touch.

He inhaled more sharply when she gave him a little squeeze.

They locked eyes and she listened to their heavy breathing, the tv running quietly in the background. Her heart fluttered, seeing the man in front of her who had brought her so much pain and also so much pleasure. His fingers were busying themselves on the button and zipper on her own jeans, the metal on his hand clinking quietly as he meticulously opened her pants. He hooked two fingers on each side of her waistband while she lifted her hips up. He yanked down her jeans and underwear in one motion and she kicked the rest of it off. She did the same to him, pulling his jeans and boxers down.

A smirk reappeared on his face and he suddenly pulled her off the table and flipped her around.

Barnes bent her over and pushed her half onto the desk with her backside to him, the front of her thighs colliding with the tabletop. She had brought out her arms to avoid falling on it when she looked back over her shoulder at him, narrowing her eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?" She hissed. This was not a position she allowed other men to take her in. But at the same time she didn't attempt to move.

He laughed quietly behind her and held her pressed against the table, unclasping her bra and letting it fall down.

He positioned himself and gave her the slightest brush with his cock against her wet entrance, making her shudder underneath him. She stuck her hips out to give him easier access, despite what she had hissed at him. He entered her slowly, rolling his hips against her in short, slow motions, getting her used to his size. Natasha's whole body tensed, keeping her outstretched arms stiff on the table and let her head dropping between them. Her mouth hung open silently, pressing her eyes shut, trying not to make a sound. Suddenly his warm lips were on her shoulder blade, and she felt his hot breath on her skin, a hand brushing her hair to the side. With one last push he filled her up completely. He stopped for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of being inside her.

"I've missed you so much, Natasha." He whispered somewhere behind her head, his hand tracing on her back.

Missed her? She wondered about the deeper meaning of that. Had he missed her even during the years when he couldn't remember her? Maybe it was the same for her, the constant emptiness she had felt all her life.

He gently pulled her up against him and made her turn her head, bending towards her. She closed her eyes and felt his lips as he started rutting his hips against her, holding her firmly. His tongue explored her mouth while he filled her with deep thrusts from behind. Natasha panted softly her lips hanging open, sweat running down her body, where the both of them molded together.

"Faster." She whispered and didn't need to repeat it, he roughly grabbed her sides and started thrusting into her with more force, groaning quietly. He kept the pace fast and she could barely keep up. She was panting hard, giving small gasps and felt her walls tightening under the repeated pressure. With one last tensing of her body she reached her orgasm, felt it washing through her body, going momentarily limp beneath him. His own movements stuttered and he came inside her with a small groan.

Natasha leaned forward on the table, needing her hands for support as her legs had gotten weak under her. He stayed behind her for a moment longer, his human hand warm and sweaty holding her tightly below her breasts. She started to stir and he slowly pulled out of her, when she turned around, looking into his soft, pale eyes.

"I'm going to get you out of here again." She said quietly, the humming noise of the tv drowning her words.

He only smiled at that, as if he needed her help to escape. "Not yet."

She reached for her clothes to put them back on, before she would make an even worse decision and stay the night. He stepped back and gave her room, picking up his jeans as well, to put them on.

"They don't want just information from me. Do they?" He asked her, already knowing the answer.

"No."

"They want me to work for them. Tell me who to kill. Right?" He worded it as a question, but it sounded like a statement.

"I don't know." She said quietly.

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it."

Natasha sighed while pulling her jeans up. "I know what that sounds like, but it's my job as well. They order me to kill the bad guys."

"You can do that with me instead." He said in a low voice, watching her put her bra on.

"James.." She looked into his pale eyes. "I can't. I don't know how that could work."

The pull in her stomach again. She finished putting her shirt on and stood in front of him, laying her hands on his bare shoulders. He bent down for a quick kiss. She wanted to stay but forced herself away from from him.

"I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." Natasha quickly turned around and walked to the door, leaving him behind. She was chewing her lip when it closed behind her, feeling her chest tighten.

She walked alone past the tired looking guards, who were eyeing her with interest, through several long corridors and winding hallways until she came up to her office, letting herself in. Maria had never come back about an apartment, instead Natasha sat down in her office chair and leaned back, resting her legs on the desk. She stayed awake for a while, waiting for sleep to come, missing his arm around her.


	26. Training Together

Chapter 26 - Training Together

**A/N**: Just a quicker one. Thanks again for all the reviews! When I started this story I had never planned to make it so lengthy, but it has kind of taken on a life of its own. I still have a few more things planned.

* * *

She was falling backwards in the darkness and for a second she didn't remember where she was. Her arms flailed out and her legs shot up, finding her balance again. Natasha was awake with a jolt, her heart pounding. It had only been her damn office chair moving as she sleep-shifted around on it.

Irritated she rubbed her eyes and sat her feet down on the floor. _What a fantastic way to wake up_. Her cell phone display told her that it was just past 5:30 am, and the thought of sleeping in again was pretty much over with. She got up on stiff legs. Her neck had a crook in it and her lower back was complaining quietly, along with an intense pulling in her inner thighs.

Natasha pondered what to do this early in the day, a mischievous idea forming in her mind. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her clothes and went looking for her boots.

Not fifteen minutes later she walked back out of the elevator again, two takeout boxes with breakfast hooked under her arm on her way to Barnes. Natasha gave a quick knock on his door and she was grinning now at the thought of throwing him out of bed this early. She didn't wait for an answer and immediately swiped her card to open it up. She stepped into the dim room, her eyes flitting to the couch.

Her mouth fell again in disappointment.

It was empty. The light in the bathroom was already on and the door stood slightly ajar.

_Why the hell was he up already? He wasn't in the damn army anymore._

A faucet was running quietly and she stepped towards the sound, knocking on the door as she slowly opened it. Barnes was running a razor up his throat coated in shaving cream and raised his eyebrows at her, not having completely expected her at this time. Natasha leaned nonchalant in the doorframe and held up the food.

"Breakfast." She said huskily, watching his hand pull his skin tight before gliding the blade over it. "Also, stop getting up so early, it's unnatural."

He shifted his head, laying the razor on the other side of his throat. "Morning to you too." He rumbled from a corner of his mouth.

She had brought a variety of things from the cafeteria, still not entirely sure what he actually preferred to eat as he simply seemed to like everything she put in front of him. They sat around his desk, the one from their adventure the previous night. She felt a ghost of his touch at that memory and looked over to him, but he was unaware, sunken into his food.

She eyed his box to see what he would eat right away. His blueberry pancakes and hash browns were the first things to go, and Natasha agreed, the pancakes were delicious today. She had suspected him more for a bacon type of person, like every other man ever, but he didn't touch it till later.

The bruise on his temple had ceased swelling and it was just a violet half circle now, she clenched her jaw in anger at the sight. She'd love to do the same to the person who had caused it. His matted hair was falling down his sides, covering it up mostly as he was eating the last pancake with his bare hands.

"You haven't showered yet, have you?" She asked him although it was sort of obvious. Her own box was half empty at this point and she was feeling full.

"No."

"Good. I have something else planned." She straightened her back and stretched her arms in front of her and then across her body. All her muscles were feeling tight and she couldn't wait to do something about it.

"And what is that?" He asked her flatly.

"It's a surprise." She grinned and got up, walking to the bathroom to wash her hands. Her eyes fell on his toothbrush as she washed off food crumbs, and she bit her lower lip. She had forgotten to buy herself one. _Well, time to be shameless then_. She grabbed it and squeezed some toothpaste on it and started brushing.

000

"I need small for me. Please. And I guess extra large for him." Nodding over her shoulder. Natasha watched the young woman at the counter of the gym disappear into the back, searching for two training suits. She glanced at Barnes standing in the empty lobby a few feet behind her, looking at everything with interest.

Natasha had probably crossed not just a few lines to bring him down here secretly, but she didn't care. This was exactly what she needed now. Excitement was starting to build in her at the anticipation of what was to come. The female employee came back smiling with two bundles of clothing. Natasha took them both, then threw the bigger one into Barnes' hands.

"Ready for a beating?" She threatened him a little, but he just cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.

She had changed from her clothes quickly into the plain dark-gray training suit and walked out into the big common gym area. She scanned the room. A couple of early risers were training in the far back on stationary bikes, a single guy lifting weights in another corner. Nobody would mind them. Natasha walked over to the big square mats on the floor, dropped her cell phone in a corner and put her hair into a high ponytail. She started warming up, rolling her neck, stretching her limbs in deliberately slow motions.

Barnes' bare feet were tapping behind her, a shudder ran up her spine at that sound. She turned around. The long sleeves were hiding most of his arm. _Good_. He shifted his neck to one side, then the other, his hair gliding with it. He rolled his shoulders, watching her. Under his stoic mask she could sense his barely contained excitement of being on the training mat with her again, the way his muscles twitched and rolled, his eyes showing just the slightest hunger.

Barnes started stalking her silently, fully concentrated already, albeit showing some tiredness from a restless sleep. She glowered back at him, her heart was starting to beat faster at his serious expression. He wouldn't hold back on her. Not that she wanted him to.

He lowered his head and crouched forward, falling into a defensive stance to make her attack him. They hadn't spoken a word to each other, there was no need. Each knew what to expect. She dashed at him, the two of them clashing violently, the silence only interrupted by hard punches and kicks, their bare feet skidding on the mat. Two lethal bodies falling into an old routine, twisting around each other in a tense dance, each trying to win the upper hand. She kicked out and whirled around him, dodging his own blurry kick, trying to stay on his backside when he caught her off guard with a hit in her shoulder as she tried to attack.

She ended up with her arms twisted behind her, his heavy legs pinning her down, rendering her unable to move even as she tried to struggle away. His chest was falling and sinking hard into her back, his breath tickling her neck. But then his weight would lift off and he stuck a hand out to help her up. He looked down at her with dark eyes.

"You slipped, watch your footing."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "No kidding." If she wanted his advice she'd ask for it.

His lazy half-grin flashed up for a second at her getting flustered, before falling into his concentrated stance again.

They went at it again, spending pent-up energy, as she would evade him and swing herself on his back, her strong thighs strangling his neck until he would throw her off again. It was easy to lose track of time that way, when she was with him.

It was a couple hours later when she wiped her flushed face with the back of her hand, feeling the first real exhaustion setting in. His shirt was covered in sweat as well, something that took a while to work up. They had been turning some heads in the gym, and she was trying to keep the noise down, but she wasn't done with him yet. Natasha lightly tapped around him, spying for a new opening, observing every of his movements, never once leaving those deadly hands out of her eyes. She faintly registered that her phone was buzzing, not spending a thought on it.

Without warning Natasha sprinted at him again, with the speed and ferocity that would knock out any other human. She fainted to jump up on him and at the last second, whirled under his hands, swinging out her leg to swipe him off his feet. It caught him and he went down with a crash, she was on top of him in an instant feeling triumphant, but he roughly grabbed her ponytail, pulling her off again on her back. James threw himself on her, using the heavy weight to his advantage to pin her down. His bionic arm pressed hard into her throat.

"Got you." He said flatly, the long hair hanging down into her face, dripping sweat. Her lips hung open, barely able to draw a breath under his pressure and she looked up, his eyes dark and deadly. For a second she thought she had made a mistake taking him here.

Then the arm lifted off her neck and he brought himself up, reaching a hand down to her.

"That's enough for now." He rumbled, sweat running down his body as well.

She pressed her teeth together as he pulled her up, wanting to continue, only having bested him four out of many times. But she did feel like she was approaching her limits and it had been a longer session than planned. And it might bring something else out in him if they kept going.

"Not bad for the first time again." Barnes continued. His voice sounded softer now.

"Well, someone kept me from training for a while." She tried to defend herself, not too happy with her performance. She was starting to feel the effects in her limbs.

"We'll do it again."

"Sure." She stretched her arms up high, and in front of her. Then turned to face the other end of the gym. Standing so close to him she could feel the heat that his sweaty body was radiating. "Showers are over there. We should get going before we really get in trouble."

000

She had showered extremely quickly by herself, the warm water feeling like heaven, and strolled back into the now empty gym, waiting. Her hands wrung her damp hair to the side down her chest, catching a glint on the mat in the distance. She had forgotten her phone.

They had spent a good few hours down here and the clock on the little display showed that it was late morning by now. It also indicated several missed calls from Hill as she strolled back to the lobby. Natasha furrowed her eyebrows.

_What did Hill want so urgently?_

She leaned against the frame of the entrance door, so she could catch Barnes whenever he got done. Her fingers were flicking absent mindedly through her contact list. Should she call Maria back? Maybe she had found out that Natasha had sneaked him down a few levels and was pissed now.

Footsteps were coming down the hallways and she stepped aside to not be in the way. They suddenly stopped right behind her and she felt like someone was staring into her back. Irritation rising in her already, it wasn't like she was standing in someone's way. Natasha was about to turn around and ask them what the hell they wanted when he spoke up.

"Nat?" She froze, her heart doing a small jump. For a second her mouth gaped open in surprise, before she got control over herself again, the phone gliding off her ear. She turned around to him.

"Hey Rogers." She said slowly with a little smile on her lips.

He was here, standing in the door of the gym, her on-and-off team partner. Steve stood tall, dressed in civilian clothing, his broad shoulders and arms outlined under the shirt he was wearing, blue eyes twinkling in a chiseled face. _Nobody should be allowed to look this good, _a voice in the back of her mind spoke up. He was staring at her warmly with an honest smile, but she could see weariness on his face, his blond hair just a little disheveled. Rogers looked a bit tired and worn out and Natasha bet she did too.

"Hill told me you were back with us. I've been searching you all morning." His face showing relief and also a tense anticipation.

"Just getting a workout in." She half-smiled.

There was a small moment of awkwardness after not seeing each other for so long and under these circumstances. They had worked incredibly close together over the span of a few days and had formed a bond during that time, even she had to admit that. It had been strange when they had each gone their separate way again.

He finally took two steps towards her and immediately hugged her, crushing her against his chest. His move threw her off for a second, her hands hanging uselessly to her side.

"It's good to see you." He talked over her shoulder.

Her eyes went wide under the strength of his muscled arms pushing down on her back, but she finally brought her own hands around on his shoulder blades and patted him. He let her go again, almost awkwardly, and stepped back just a little.

"What was _that_ for?" She asked, her voice just a tad raspier, cocking an eyebrow in surprise by his forwardness.

"Thank you, for bringing him in." Steve looked almost embarrassed now for hugging her so tightly.

She just had to pull up a corner of her mouth at his shuffling, her deep green eyes making him uncomfortable. Did he still not understand that women everywhere would throw themselves at his feet for a chance to get just that from him?

"It wasn't really me who brought him in. But he's here now, anyway." She said matter of factly. Steve was eyeing her face now. _Her fading bruise on her flushed face_. She had no make-up on, revealing a violet color just under and around the eye, and the healing cut in her brow.

"Are you ok? Did something.. happen?" He asked, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

"No, I'm fine." She said hastily, gazing up at him with clear eyes, her voice firm. "You know that I can take care of myself." She flashed him a little grin.

He smiled back at that, but the worry hadn't all left him.

"Is he here?" He asked with a nervous exhale. "I just really want to talk to him."

Something in Natasha jolted awake, Barnes might come out any second and Steve had literally no idea about the current state of his former friend. Her grin vanished from her face, and it turned serious. She stepped closer to him, talking lower now.

"Steve, I know you'll want to talk to him right away, but try to give him some space. I don't think he's how you remember him from back then, not exactly. And you need to keep that in mind when you see him." Rogers was listening intently and knew well enough what she meant, having seen the confusion in the Winter Soldier's face when he was first breaking through his brainwashing.

"Let's do this somewhere else." She was reaching for Steve's arm when she caught a movement in the corner of her eye.

_Dammit._

James had silently come into the lobby, his hair dripping wet, wearing his jeans and long shirt. He stood just a few feet away unmoving, glowering at both of them, his face unreadable.

"Buck.." His presence took Steve by surprise, turning to him immediately. Barnes' face tightened at that name. "I've been searching for you for weeks." He took a step towards his friend.

"Looks like you wasted your time." He growled, anger lacing in his voice. James' eyes were flitting between him and Natasha, grinding his jaw, but standing his ground. His hands drawing into fists.

"We can talk about it, I just want to catch up with you." A deeply rooted pain was shining through in Steve's voice, as he started walking towards him.

"I don't know what's there to talk about." He said in a low voice, watching Steve approach slowly.

"Just about old times. And new." Steve held his gaze, never once looking at the bionic hand coming out of the sleeve.

Barnes finally took a few steps to the side, evading him and marched towards the exit, letting his hair hang into his face. Just as he walked by, Steve reached out for him, touching his arm.

"Bucky."

Barnes whirled around and sucker punched him in the side of the face with his human fist. Steve recoiled, but gained his footing as Barnes stormed out for good. Natasha had been watching with her heart jumping out of her chest. Her first reaction was to run after him, but she turned to Steve instead. The single punch hadn't hurt him all that much. At least not physically.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"It's ok." He said with a deep sigh, holding a hand on his face. "I probably deserve it."

"No, you don't. And I don't think he's really angry with you. Just give him some time, it's difficult for him." Steve was still blaming himself for what had happened to him, Natasha thought with dismay.

"Yeah, I can imagine." He said, thinking. Rogers looked over at her with blue eyes, full of questions. "Have you been helping him?"

Natasha only stared back at him.

Suddenly, she was very afraid to face Steve. As if he could gaze deep down into her tainted soul and see what she had done. Done with his friend. She felt like she had somehow gone behind Steve's back in not revealing the connection the two assassins had once shared. And were now having again.

Would he judge her for it if he knew? He had seen some of her worst sins displayed in front of him when her history was made an open book, but it hadn't interested him. Steve had never judged her for any of them.

"I've been trying." Natasha swallowed. "I don't know what he was like back then, but so many years can change a person. The Winter Soldier and James, it's all intertwined. The old James sometimes seems to come through, but…" She thought of him holding the sniper rifle and giving her a quick grin. "But he has another side and it's strong. I'm not sure you can separate the two."

Natasha had said it with a serious tone, trying to get him to understand. He didn't say anything for a while.

"Has he been treating you well?" He asked finally, shuffling again.

"Oh you know, he's all the gentleman. Did he get that from you?" Now she couldn't help but grin, a smidge of sarcasm taking over. For some reason a darker thought entered her mind of James laying an arm around her waist and asking her out to dinner, after they had just murdered a mansion full of Hydra agents. She brushed those memories to the side before her face would betray anything.

Steve had to smile at her answer, before he continued. "Where is he staying?"

"The 20th for now."

"Do you think we can meet up sometime, maybe have lunch together. The three of us? It doesn't have to be right away." He asked her with hope in his voice.

Just imagining that strange scene made her laugh, a short raspy exhale. Rogers' was being slightly naive, and he really didn't give up that quickly. "Steve. They are not simply letting him walk around. He's confined to his floor. Did Maria not tell you?"

"No, she didn't. Why confined?" He crossed his arms now, his biceps tensing.

"They're seeing him as a threat, as dangerous. Nobody is supposed to know that he's here."

"How's _that_ going to help him?" Steve sounded irritated now and turned as if making to leave. "I'll catch up with you later Nat, I promise, but I need to have a word with Hill."

000

Natasha found Barnes near one of the elevators, not being able to use it without a card. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his head hanging low, not caring for anyone that walked by and might catch a glimpse of the metal hand. She brought him back to his room, trying to nudge and talk to him the entire way, but he didn't reply to anything. He was brooding in his own world, his forehead lying in creases.

She left him alone but promised she'd be back later. There were a lot of errands she had to get done that day anyway, starting with her former house. The drive out there took almost an hour and a half, and it was past noon when she finally arrived. Her broken door had been forcefully closed again and it took her some work to get it open. She stepped into her home for what would be the last time, brushing any sentimental emotions to the side. His duffel bag was still in the laundry room, and to her surprise, his black kevlar-padded armor was in her bedroom, untouched. Natasha carefully took all weapons and knives off for now, and stuffed the rest into the bag, then went to her bath- and bedroom and got her essentials from all the drawers. Same with any important papers and money she still had throughout the house.

She checked the garage. His car was gone, and so were any traces of his weapons. Seized by her agency. _Oh well, she could always go snooping for them later._

After she had made sure that everything important was packed in her car, she called a moving company to have the rest of her household all packed up and brought to a storage facility. Luckily, she hadn't even unpacked most things in the first place.

_Actually, that was kind of sad. At least in the eyes of a normal person._

She gave a big huff, standing in her living room, looking around. Maybe sad for some people, but not her. _Stuff_ wasn't really important enough to get attached to. Not an important part of her life. A life that demanded so much from her and gave so little in return. She had never fully expected to grow old anyway, people in her line of duty usually didn't. Attaching herself to anything (_anyone_) would simply make no sense.

Only, she felt like it was happening anyway. Had happened before in the past.

When she had been chosen into the Black Widow program it had been one of the proudest moments of her life, beaming with joy under the neutral face. But every dream she might have ever had of a normal life had fallen away at that point. Natasha had never―_could never_―wish for having a family of her own. Department X had taken care of that. She wasn't able to carry a child. But there had been never bitterness about it, only indifference.

Her life had been devoted to another cause.

When she had turned seventeen and other young women were finding and marrying partners for life, Natalia Alianovna Romanova had learned the 30 most lethal targets on a human body to sink a knife in, taking an enemy out in an instant.

When she had turned eighteen, the Soldier had taught her how to kill someone from 800 yards away with a sniper rifle, laying still for hours in any terrain and weather, and then to disassemble the gun effectively after the job was done.

When other women had carried their first child under the glowing support of their family, she had gone on her own to the Soldier and asked him with a shaky voice for more lessons, saying she wanted to be as deadly as him one day.

Natasha rubbed her eyes tiredly.

A memory had come to her again, had emerged like a tiny air bubble rising to the top. She remembered one particular night when the Soldier had visited her in her small dorm. She had whispered something to him, that was not meant for anyone else's ears. He had whispered something back to her in the darkness and it had stung deeply in her chest.

With his hand gently tracing the curves of her body he had answered her quietly. _Love is for children._

But whenever she looked into those unguarded eyes, when the blank facade would melt away, she saw something different in them, despite what he had said, and it didn't need to be spoken out loud.

She marched out of her house with the broken, creaking front door and never looked back.

000

It was evening when she finally got back to the headquarter, dusk falling over the city, and it turned out there had been an interesting development while she was gone. Apparently Steve had talked to Hill and her team in charge in what appeared to be a tense chat about Barnes' stay at the headquarter. Steve didn't really see eye to eye with them, almost demanding to have James released. They eventually settled on giving him a bit more freedom to move around as he wanted, if he did so inconspicuously.

_Well, that was quick, _Natasha thought sourly. They'd jump when Captain America asked for something, before risking to lose his support. She had felt bad how the meeting between the two of them had gone over and it could have been planned out better. _But what's done is done_. She guessed there would have been no easy way to get it over with anyway, hoping next time would go smoother. _If _James was willing.

Instead of going to him right away, she had to finish the second part of her errands, striding to her office. The old Hydra laptop was quickly connected to her work station and she started running more sophisticated tools on it, trying to repair what was left. She got to a point where it would run by itself and left it alone.

Natasha found James in his room. To her surprise he was moving and spinning around, the gloom from earlier apparently forgotten. It seemed more like he was inspired by their training session. Then her eyes went wide when she saw it.

"Where did you get that?" She asked, shocked. He was not just practicing moves, he had a medium-sized sharp combat knife in his hand and was twirling it around in blurry motions, throwing it from one hand to the other, then grabbing it hard by the handle as if to stab the air. He was obviously enjoying his little routine, going about in fluent motions as if it was a dance, the bionic arm gleaming and his hair flying wild.

He stopped and turned to her, a twinkle in his steely eyes.

"I found it." He answered flatly, but his mouth curved into a half-smile.

"You don't simply find knives laying around. Did you take it from someone?" Natasha asked more firmly, worried what he might have done.

"I got it from the gym. No harm done." He had seen the concern on her face. _The gym?_ She wasn't sure how he had done it, but she didn't doubt him either.

"Ah. Don't be seen with it." Natasha would not even attempt to take it from him. Maybe later when he wasn't looking…

She had dropped the heavy duffel bag by the entrance and now stepped aside to have him see it. "I got most of your clothes out of the house, you can look through it."

He walked over to her with interest now and dropped down to one knee opening the bag. She could tell he was surprised to find everything, even his armor. Of course he wouldn't say so out loud, but she felt like teasing him.

"I know, you can thank me later." She watched him as he got up again, a half smile on that shaved face, his hair in unruly waves again. "Actually, I have the perfect idea to thank me." She lowered her head slightly and looked up to him under her eyelashes. "Didn't you want to take me out to dinner?"

"Yep." He answered, his face turning serious.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get us a table in the cafeteria." They would have a few things to talk about.

He glanced down to her, raising his eyebrows in an honest gesture of surprise. He looked so innocent in that moment, Natasha couldn't believe she was dealing with the same man sometimes. Then it turned into his trademark half smile, boyish charm written on his face.

"Yes ma'am." He twirled his knife one last time then slipped it somewhere in the back of his pants.


	27. A Knife And A Truth

Chapter 27 - A Knife And A Truth

**A/N**: Thanks for the awesome reviews and I apologize that this chapter took a while. Work's been busy and I can't write as much anymore. I've watched CA:TWS one more time last night, before it's completely gone from theaters and it's just a blast. Bucky is such a force of nature. Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

It amazed her how well he could blend in if he needed to. Even SHIELD employees couldn't recognize him for who he really was, as long as that arm was hidden and he wore plain clothes. Natasha glanced up at Barnes, standing by her side at one of the food counters. The green flimsy tray was hanging loosely from his human hand in front him, the bionic one hidden behind it. He was silently scanning his surroundings, watching other employees from the corner of his eyes as they walked by, nothing going unnoticed.

They had arrived late in the evening in a half-full cafeteria, regular dinner time having come and gone already and only stragglers and off-schedule people were lounging around, most dressed in civilian clothing just like themselves. All were sitting in small groups and talking quietly amongst each other, a soft murmur throughout the big dining hall, with its plastic chairs and tables and the squeaky linoleum floor. Natasha pursed her lips. It wasn't as if the cafeteria was the best place to meet for _dinner,_ but then again she didn't care for the romantic notions of it anyway.

She looked down at the plexiglass window of the counter in front of her and tried to decide between fresh or prepackaged, and eventually settled on a pre-made salad. Barnes had wandered off on his own and came back with something that resembled a burger and fries and a sort of hidden anticipation on his face. It pained her a little to have him experience this as bland cafeteria food.

She swiped her card at the self checkout and they stood in front of the emptying hall. Her elbow hit him lightly in his jacket. "Pick a table." Looking up to him from behind red strands.

James started walking wordlessly and she followed him, up the the staircase and into a lone corner of the balcony, overviewing the entire floor below. It was a high point, their backs to a wall and not right by a window. She had seen his choice coming from a mile away.

They sat down together, her slower than him, feeling every single exhausted muscle from their workout pull tight. Barnes dragged his chair closer to her along the round small table, then immediately dug into his burger while she started picking at the small pieces of chicken on her salad. He actually looked happy with his choice, as far as she could tell from that neutral face.

He finally looked over. "Do you remember going to Yekaterinburg with me?" He asked with a full mouth.

_That was random._ Natasha met his pale eyes and shook her head slowly. "No, I don't." She couldn't remember ever being in that city at all.

"I do. We were coming back from an assignment when a cold weather front surprised us. I had to pull the car over and we found shelter in an abandoned house. It had no heat or water. And we only had little food." He paused, taking another bite and chewing. "The snow storm lasted a week before we could continue back to base." He sounded impassive, as if he was reciting a story he had read, but she could hear the underlying emotions. They had probably come close to death of exposure.

"Doesn't sound like a good week." Natasha answered while taking another bite.

"No." Barnes shook his head. "I dreamed about it last night." He looked back at her and she could see the creases around his eyes. He did have looked tired all day. That story wasn't all that out of the ordinary though, she thought, her mind wandering. Having brushes with death was part of their job.

"Hope it'll be something better tonight." Natasha said with a shrug.

"Yeah." He agreed. Neither said anything for a while. Barnes kept an eye on the people on the lower level, watching them clean up their tables and leave, making way for new ones.

When he had taken his seat she had seen a dark colored spot on the lower right side of his neck. It was hidden mostly under his hair and the collar of his jacket, but she noticed it again now. It's where she had clamped down hard with her thighs while swinging herself on his shoulders during their sparring, leaving a big bruise. He had left his own marks on her body as well, she had seen them earlier while changing clothes.

Natasha had enjoyed their time in the gym, except for what had happened afterwards.

She exhaled, looking over to him.

"Why did you hit him?" Her voice was soft.

Barnes gave a little grunt in response, narrowing his eyebrows. It was obviously not something he wanted to talk about. She gave him some time, not saying anything else to see if he would come around. After another bite of his burger he did.

"I don't know." He said suddenly. "Is he ok?"

Natasha almost coughed on her piece of chicken she had just swallowed. "Yeah." She answered, surprised at his question. "He just wants to sit down with you sometime, is all."

"Ah." He said between bites. He was holding the burger with both hands, the bionic one coming out of the sleeve of his washed out army coat. Natasha had already checked if anyone in the vicinity would be able to recognize it, but nobody sat close enough.

"Was he your partner? When I saw you together in the car?" He asked now looking over to her.

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, confirming his question. "We've been assigned to each other on and off for the last two years." She paused. "And we were during that whole mess six weeks ago." When Barnes had basically crushed said car all by himself. She had felt his raw, violent strength up close that day and it would have gone a whole lot different without Rogers on her side. Natasha met his eyes, they were both replaying the scene in their heads.

"He protected you." He slowly took another bite.

"Yeah." She answered shortly.

"I'm glad he did."

"So am I." Natasha said more forcefully, and then sighed, watching him shift around at that topic. She guessed Barnes was still coming to terms with being sent on a mission to kill two close people from his past. Hadn't she told him not to linger on those thoughts? "By the way, they have counseling services here in the building, near the medical station. You can take advantage of that if you want, it's part of the offer to stay here."

He looked at her with a blank expression, then gave a short hoarse laugh as if she had just said the funniest thing ever, before drawing his brows together.

"No."

She shrugged. "Your loss. Honestly though, I don't like them either." As if she would talk to some guy with a clipboard about her past so they could try and _fix_ her. Barnes must be feeling similarly. She took a big fork full of salad.

"Do you work with a lot of different partners? Your file had listed a few." He changed topics.

"Yeah." Natasha was chewing and didn't feel like delving into the details of those.

A curious smile started playing around his mouth and he leaned back in his chair, watching her from the corner of his eyes. "Was there ever more between you and one of them? Aside from me?"

Only he would ask such an unabashed question. Apparently he thought he could interrogate her. Natasha pursed her lips and looked up to him under her eyelashes. "Oh, wouldn't _you _like to know." Her voice husky. But involuntarily her thoughts went to Clint, who she had shared her bed with on and off.

His eyes hung on her pouting lips for a moment. Then he pulled a corner of his mouth up as if seeing the true answer written on her. "Anyone recently?"

Her face fell serious again. "These are strict working relationships. And it's also none of your business, James."

"Of course it is."

"And why would that be?"

He smoothly leaned over to her and she shrank back at first, feeling his hand sliding up her thigh, as he bent his face into her hair. "Because you want me instead." He whispered into her ear. Then casually leaned back again, the hand leaving her leg after a squeeze, a grin emerging on his face.

She gave a short husky laugh, unbelieving at his brash gesture. It came pretty natural to him, she had to admit. "Don't be so sure of that." As if he could swoon her of her feet that easily. "I've never wanted or _needed _anyone in my life." She said as firmly as she could.

"That sounded different last night." His grin remained.

She smiled thinly, still remembering his warm tongue tracing up her throat. "I wouldn't put too much emphasis on that, if I were you." Her voice aloof. The things she said during sex usually didn't really mean anything, they were just a set of tools to help her along. Or at least she tried to convince herself.

"Ah." He said, not believing her.

She focussed back on her salad, picking up the last pieces with her fork. Now her thoughts were all distracted. She's had relationships with a few assigned partners before, all of which she had enjoyed for a while. Even during her days with Rogers there had been a small 'what if' moment, and she wasn't sure if he had felt the same. But she had thrown that idea out of the window immediately. It could obviously never work, the two of them being almost polar opposites. Even the idea of keeping it strictly physical was so awful, she almost cringed at that thought. Rogers was not the type of man for those things. He was a friend, and she didn't want to destroy that.

Barnes suddenly stuck his hand out, holding something in front of her mouth. "Try this, they're good."

Natasha shrank back at the sudden movement interrupting her thought, then turned and glanced at him. _Was he serious now?_ "I've had french fries before, Barnes." She said somewhat condescending. But he wasn't removing his hand, only looking at her expectantly. Natasha rolled her eyes and bit into it, chewed it, and decided it tasted like any other bland fry ever. But he seemed satisfied, quickly licking the salt from his fingertips.

Her phone buzzed on the table next to her tray with a text message, both their heads turning to it. She picked it up and read the message, quickly turning it back off again and laying it down. Barnes was watching her curiously. She gazed through the cafeteria instead, most tables were empty now and both of them had finished their meals. Another night in her office chair was on her horizon, as she still didn't have an apartment here. She guessed she could always book a hotel room outside instead.

"What was that message?" Barnes asked, not fooled by her behavior.

"Nothing of importance."

"Let me see then." He quickly reached over to her phone, but she pulled it off the table before he could take it. His eyes darkened a bit. "It's concerning me, right?"

_Of course it was_, Natasha sighed. "I have a meeting about you tomorrow. But I don't know what it's about exactly." Barnes' face hardened at the thought. That was exactly what she was trying to avoid, making him aware again that he was being kept here.

He glowered at her, then pushed his chair back. "Let's go back upstairs." His voice was low.

Natasha didn't like his expression much but she agreed with his idea. They put their trays up and then strolled back to the elevator in silence. Something in his mood had changed and it was getting darker by the minute. Now she just wanted to be out of public space again.

It was a short walk out of the front of the cafeteria to the elevator area, Barnes put his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his hair falling in waves down the sides of his face. Natasha swiped her card and pressed a button, then crossed her arms, turning away from him. She could almost feel a tension creeping into her, coming from him.

The elevator arrived humming quietly and the doors opened with a small hiss. Natasha entered first, with him right behind her. She went straight to the back wall and leaned against it with her back flat, rubbing her eyes tiredly, irritated with him. The door closed.

He lunged at her. She hadn't expected it and suddenly he was pressing her into the wall, his bionic hand covering her mouth while he looked down on her with dark, flat eyes. She panicked and buckled under the sudden restraint, trying to push him back, to get the hand off, then setting her hands flatly on his hard chest to push him away. But it felt like trying to move a solid rock. She kicked out, hitting his thigh and she might as well have kicked a marmor wall, he barely noticed it. Her heart was pounding in her chest, trying to suck in enough air through her nose.

_What the fuck was he doing?_

Barnes cocked his head, his dark hair falling over those impassive eyes. "Shhh." He was soothing her.

She stopped struggling to look up to him again. Utter confusion in her face. The metal was pressing on her mouth hard. There was a deafening silence in the tiny space and she felt like her heart was beating loud enough for him to hear. Her green wide eyes were asking him. _Why?_

"Does your boss think she can decide over me?" He asked her quietly, something deadly swinging in that voice. The Soldier was back with her and he was angry. _No_, she wanted to say. Barnes would take orders from no one here, that was obvious. She couldn't reply and had to resort to shaking her head, as far as his hand allowed.

"She is not going to make me do anything." He confirmed, lowering his head even more until his face hovered in front of her. The fingernails of her right hand were digging into his chest, going unnoticed by him. "Do you want to know why I really came here?" He asked her quietly. She breathed in more sharply and gave the faintest nod, afraid of the answer.

"You told me that there is a backup of my file. In this very building. And I want it, now." He demanded, studying her wide-eyed face. Her heart was galloping. His damn file. She had been trying to repair his broken one, but he was looking for the full one, the backup. He had no idea how difficult it was to get ahold of, if SHIELD even had it after all. She put a hand on his bionic one and tried to pry it away again. This time he took it off. Finally the pressure was gone and she took a couple of deep breaths, narrowing her eyes.

"It's not as easy as you think." She hissed angrily.

The corners of his mouth went up slightly. "You'll find a way. You're good at that." His bionic hand was resting on her shoulder now and for a second he looked like he was going to kiss her, his mouth hovering so close and that made her even more angry.

At that moment the elevator stopped early, the doors slowly sliding open. _Dammit, not now_. Barnes tensed, then his grin widened. He angled his head at her and gave her a quick flick with his tongue along her lips, enough to wetten them, and withdrew quickly. Natasha looked at him angrily as he turned to stand pressed into her right side, leaving her with a flushed face. His bionic hand slid behind her, pressing into her lower back.

Two women entered the elevator chatting amongst each other, quickly averting their eyes after having seen him move off her, as if having caught them doing something inappropriate. Natasha stood glowering with color on her cheeks from struggling with him, the redness making a different impression. She threw him a deathly stare, then involuntarily sucked on her lips tasting faint traces of him and the irony scent of metal. He grinned down at her and turned to look at the backs of the newcomers. It had gotten very quiet in the elevator.

Natasha recognized one of the girls as one of their technicians. _I think it's Brooks. Karen Brooks_. The young woman stood in front of Natasha and she noticed her fidgeting as if she was trying to decide on doing something. She finally turned around. "Didn't I see you in the gym this morning?" Karen cut through the silence, asking her curiously.

Natasha forced a little smile on her face and brushed some of her mussed hair over her shoulders. "Could be. I was there very early." She didn't want to start small talk right this moment and Barnes was shifting next to her. The other woman's face lit up at her answer, she had truly seen them work out together.

"You have some killer moves, I was watching you and could barely concentrate on my own workout." She went on excitedly and tabbed her friend in the shoulder. "See, I told you it was her. I wasn't hallucinating." Her friend was turning around too, staring at her.

Barnes shifted his head, a flash going through his eyes as if he was taking the compliment personally. He shot the two women a smile. "Years of training with me." He rumbled and Natasha was digging her fingers hard into the side of his thigh, wanting him to shut up. "She's my best student." Barnes continued with one corner of his mouth going up and his eyes crinkling.

"He sure likes to think it was all him." Natasha interrupted with a bite, hitting him playfully but hard into the chest with a flat hand. She couldn't let this go uncommented. Barnes only gave a low chuckle.

Karen looked up to him now and blinked, trying to remember if she had seen him before. Then her eyes flitted back and forth between the couple, both leaning casually against the back wall. "I bet." She muttered and smiled shyly, turning around again.

Barnes was obviously enjoying the reaction he was getting, digging his hand into Natasha's back.

The elevator stopped on the 18th and Brooks and her friend stepped forward, the young woman quickly turning to Natasha. "Seeya around." Before she left the elevator for good.

They were alone again.

If looks could kill, James would be falling dead to his knees at this moment. "Did you enjoy that little show?" Her deep green eyes were piercing him.

His face had turned serious again, but there was still a smile playing around his mouth. "Very much." He answered in a low voice. The bionic hand on her back crept up around her waist, holding her firmly into his side. The elevator opened a second time for their correct floor on the 20th and they stepped out together. Natasha tried walking ahead to leave his arm but he held her with him, leaving through the doors together.

She stared up and down the empty bright hallways. Luckily not a lot of people would be walking here at this time, she didn't want anyone to cross ways with anyone right now. A gleam in his right hand suddenly caught her eye. He was casually holding his knife.

"Where is your office?"

She narrowed her eyes and nodded down to her right. Barnes started walking that direction with her arm in arm.

Natasha was trying to match his long strides, when she looked up into his dark eyes. "It's not going to be a quick process. I've been trying to repair your old file and that's your best shot at the moment."

He didn't stop, but flashed her a little smile. "That's alright. I don't mind spending the night with you."

000

One of her legs was laying comfortably on her desk, the other foot firmly on the ground. Natasha leaned back deep in her chair with a keyboard in her lap. They had been sitting in her office for almost an hour now, her eyes glued to the big screen on the wall, hands flying over the key commands. The dim room was only illuminated by several computer screens, small and big ones, throwing harsh light at her and Barnes. Long lines of code were rattling down in different windows and she was reading through several backlogs at the same time, while the algorithm running in the background was trying to recover data fragments. There had already been a small victory during the hours that she had let it run by itself. It had recovered a part of the file. That meant not all was lost.

Natasha looked over to Barnes. He had been pacing around in boredom, picked up every object on her desk twice already to inspect it, only to set it down again. Now he stood with his arms crossed leaning next to her, trying to follow what was on the screen.

"Tell me what you are doing exactly." He rumbled in her direction.

Natasha sighed slowly. "Repairing whatever is left on your laptop." She answered, her eyes concentrated on finishing a line of code. "It's all fragmented and I've only started with it earlier today, so there's not much to see yet."

He shifted slightly and she saw the question on his lips.

"James, I know I told you there's a backup." She started explaining. "But I also told you it's above my rank." Although she wasn't completely certain of that. If it existed here, she might even be able to hack into it, but that would set off every alarm possible with security. Not something she felt like risking.

Even thinking about the notion of hacking into her own agency's servers was something she would have never thought of, never even faintly taken into consideration a few months ago. Back when everything in her world was relatively normal, and SHIELD had appeared stronger than ever before under Pierce's guidance. _Before_ they knew how badly compromised they had been. It certainly had left a bad aftertaste for Natasha.

"This is all I have at the moment, so be patient." She went on in a soft voice, her mind completely occupied by what was happening on the large display. Barnes didn't answer, but dropped his hands and started pacing around again. When Natasha looked up again, he had walked over to Rogers' desk even though it was mostly empty. There was a single box with a few personal belongings that had been collected at some point. Maybe it was leftovers from his old offices, or even his old bugged apartment.

Barnes walked by it, his eyes glancing over everything and froze. He slowly reached into the box, violating every law of personal space and property by doing so. He took out an old picture frame and stared at it. Natasha's eyes went wide now, realization kicking in. It was a photo of _them_. Rogers always kept a copy wherever he went, same with one of the rest of the Howling Commandos, and more hidden, a photo of his first flame Peggy.

Natasha swallowed, watching his reaction. He only stared expressionlessly, taking in every detail of the picture, standing completely still for a while. She had seen the photo before, it had been taken during the war. It was faded, the corners were slightly torn and cracked, picturing the two of them standing next to each other in uniform, laughing into the camera.

Barnes held it in his human hand a moment longer, then carefully put it back into the box, his forehead in creases. He started pacing again without saying a word. She could only wonder what was going on in his head, with his old and new life clashing so hard. Natasha sank back into the code. She knew it was slow and tedious and not the most exciting activity to watch, and she blended him completely out again. If only she could speed this up a little... Maybe if she _discreetly_ connected up to the server and used some of their tools, she'd only have to be careful about it.

He was suddenly next to her and his hand reached for her hip. She flinched, not having heard him. Barnes unclasped her SHIELD card in one swift motion from her belt.

"Hey―" She turned to him angrily. "What are you doing?" She tried reaching for it, but he held it out of the way.

"Going for a walk." He grinned down to her.

"You don't have―"

"I've seen your passcode. I won't take long, no worry." His grin got a little wider and that concerned her. He still had the knife somewhere hidden on him. She tried to get up but he put a hand on her shoulder, holding her in the seat. "Nobody will see me." He said in a more serious tone now. That she _did_ believe him.

"Where are you going?" She furrowed her brows.

"Not far, I'll be back in a bit." He saw that she was going to ask more questions. "I won't harm your friends." He shot her another grin, then walked towards the door and let himself out.

She tried to believe him and in the back of her mind she did, but she was nervous all the same. She brushed her hair to one side, deciding what to do. He was allowed to walk around, but the deal was that she had to accompany him. But as long as nobody was aware she wouldn't get in trouble. Natasha chewed her lower lip, then focussed back on the laptop. Her hands rattled, setting up firewall precautions, then she connected it to the wireless network with a few clicks.

000

The laptop was hooked to one of their servers, letting more sophisticated algorithms work on the file, and the progress had actually sped up. Fragments were pieced together again, forming little parts here and there, not that she had looked at any of the completed ones yet. Time always flew when she had a project to work on and she looked over at the little clock in the corner on her screen. It was approaching midnight and Barnes had been gone for almost an hour.

_Back in a bit, yeah right._

She was angry with him for pulling that and not coming back. Now she'd have to go search for him before something else happened and Hill was notified. The code on the screen would run alone for a while and Natasha leaned back in her chair for a second, stretching her limbs. She'd been sitting pretty tensed up without noticing it. She stood and stretched her back as well when she looked back up. Something strange started happening on the screen.

The first repair algorithm simply stopped working and one of the four tabs she had open went blank. Natasha raised an eyebrow, guessing there was a hiccup in the connection and it would kick right back in.

Then the second tab went blank.

_Shit._

She was back in her chair in a second, hands rattling on the keyboard looking at the logs. The file was starting to crumble again, the parts that had been repaired were suddenly gone. Deleted.

_Not fucking again. _A panic was rising in her stomach and started to quickly spread up her spine. This all felt so familiar. Her eyes were glued to the screen when the third tab went blank. In a rush she interrupted the wireless access and it disconnected, only for it to reconnect two seconds later. Someone was overwriting her access. Someone from inside their HQ. This same targeted deleting process had happened the first time around in the safe house, she came to an icy realization.

The door opened behind her, he was finally back.

"James." She barked. "Something is wrong."

"Yes, Agent Romanoff, something is very wrong." A voice said somewhere behind her. Natasha shot out of her chair and whirled around, facing the person standing by the door. Chief Security Officer Grant. _What the hell was he doing here?_ Then her eyes dropped a bit lower, seeing the muzzle of a handgun pointed at her. _Fucking scumbag. _It had been him all along, one of Hill's most trusted people. Rage was flowing through her, deep under her frozen expression. She mustered Grant, wearing a suit and tie, his bland face with the receding hairline all turned into an expression of annoyance. He was one of _them_. Hydra.

"I thought you would have learned the first time to not go digging in things that don't concern you." He said in a low voice. Natasha stood up straighter, facing him right on, her own special brand of indifferent pity spreading over her features. This was betrayal of the highest kind. Once again.

She shifted her head, her hair brushing around her shoulders. "I believe it concerns me pretty well." She said with an almost sweet voice that carried an icy warning and took a step around her desk. He was too far away to attack right out.

"Don't move." He pointed the gun higher, aiming right at her head. Noises were crackling over the small earpiece he was wearing, a faint voice. He was not working alone. He had stopped to listen and concentrated back on her again. "I had hoped it wouldn't have come to this." He shrugged. "But now we will extract the asset earlier than planned."

"Good luck with that." Her head dropped lower. "Send Pierce my regards when you get there."

Grant smiled frostily and his finger moved to the trigger. "Sure, and one more thing. Thanks for bringing him back in, we'll take good care of him."

Natasha dropped and rolled behind her desk as the large screen behind her exploded under two bullets. A loud shattering noise filling the room. Small sparks were flying and puffs of smoke erupted where the wall mounted display had been. She crouched behind the panel of the back of her desk, staying out of sight. Why wasn't she carrying a damn gun? Because she thought she had been safe? She heard Grant take a careful step and she got up to her knees, not peeking yet, only listening. He took another step on the smooth floor, his expensive shoes tapping almost loudly. She had a good idea where he was and how far, he was trying to get a glimpse of her behind the desk. There was a quiet clicking and she dropped flat on the floor again. Another bullet crashed through the middle of her desk, exploding right next to her in a deafening sound, spraying wood splinter through the air. It had only missed her by inches and he was almost up to her desk now.

Then another sound, the far door opened again. She prayed that it was Barnes this time and not Grant's backup, but Grant had whirled around in surprise as well. That was all the confirmation she needed. She flew up from the ground over her desk, seeing his suited figure in front of her, the arm outstretched with the gun pointing to the door. He hadn't expected her that quickly. Her foot hit his elbow precisely, and Grant yelped out loud. The strength of her kick causing his hand to go numb immediately and he lost his grip on the gun as she landed smoothly on all four. Then suddenly Barnes was on him, the bionic arm squeezing his throat hard, driving him into the desk.

Natasha blinked. Not Barnes, the Winter Soldier instead.

He had changed into his armor, wearing his black padded uniform from top to bottom, the arm fully exposed. There were guns in his holsters on the sides, and the M4 assault rifle loosely swinging on his back. He had somehow found the armory and gotten his weapons back. Natasha couldn't believe her eyes.

"Stand down... Soldier." Grant croaked, clawing at the metal that was strangling his neck. Barnes was holding him still and only stared at him indifferently, then turned his head to muster her, checking for injuries. Natasha raised slowly to face Grant. Fear and panic written on the man's face.

She turned to Barnes. "He deleted your file. Just now." She said in a low voice. "And he has done it back then, too. Sending Hydra agents to our location."

He glanced back at the man's face, his hand tightening even more. Something icy laid over Natasha, her emotions fading into the background, another mind was taking over. There was no remorse in her for the man who had just tried to kill her, and who was now struggling to breath.

Barnes was studying the face in front of him intently, a realization slowly dawning in him. "I know you." Grant stopped struggling for a moment and looked up to the Soldier. Barnes' eyes narrowed at him. "Did you think I'd forget? That you could make me forget? You and Pierce." He growled quietly.

"No.. " He tried to speak with his windpipe being crushed. "You belong… with us. We can help you.." He was looking for any sign of the Soldier taking his order as he used to, but there was nothing. The only response he got was from Barnes closing his hand even tighter.

Natasha was watching the scene unfold with a blank mind. There was a faint seething anger in the back of it, but she was assessing the situation matter-of-factly. Grant had worked with Pierce together on the Winter Soldier project and had been able to slip through the cracks due to the high profile position he was in, being able to manipulate and cover his tracks. If anyone, it would be Grant who was in possession of said file.

"Give me your access code." She looked at Grant, who only stared back trying to breath.

"Go… to hell..." He managed to say. Barnes didn't waste a second, he let go of the man's neck and the bionic hand pulled a knife with a blur, driving it through Grant's hand that was clutching onto the desk behind him. The tip went deep through flesh and bone and into the wood, pinning it in place.

Grant howled in pain next to him and went partly to his knees, trying to pull away which only dug the blade deeper into his flesh. He screamed again as the wound cut bigger, his legs shaking, and half leaned on the table. His trembling left hand went onto his right, as if he could close the wound. Barnes only watched with indifference and shifted his head, holding the handle tight.

"Your code. Now." He commanded.

Grant shook his head, either from pain or resistance. He refused to say anything. Barnes gave the knife a slow twist, causing new pain to erupt. Grant was heaving and sweating, when he finally started spitting out a long number. Natasha knew he'd falter quickly. He was one of the men that pulled the strings safely from behind a desk, not doing the dirty jobs out in the field. He wouldn't withstand a rough questioning. She quickly wrote down the number, while looking over to Barnes. He was still holding the knife in place, his face dark and emotionless, almost menacing, but maybe it was the uniform that made him look so much more intimidating.

In the background Natasha heard a communication terminal coming to life. Maria Hill's clear voice spoke up. "I need everyone available to report to me, now! We have been compromised." Natasha furrowed her brows and ignored it for the moment, she needed to do something else first.

With Grant's access clearing she jumped to one of the terminals, entering under his name on the network, then went searching for his private folders. It didn't take her long this time, finding the entire unencrypted file in a deeply nested folder structure. She downloaded it to her laptop in just a few seconds.

She finally had it. The file was in her possession.

"Soldier―" Grant started looking up to Barnes. "You… can be our best weapon again, taking down SHIELD once and for all." He paused and coughed. "Are you with us?" Grant asked under slow rasps.

In response Barnes removed the blade, letting Grant sink to the floor. He gazed silently down on the man whom he had once known from a Hydra lab. He switched the knife to his right hand, rotating it once to take the handle into his fist.

"No. I'm not." He answered in a low voice and kneeled down on Grant, driving the blade forcefully into his chest. Grant gasped and contorted a few times, his hands reaching out, then went still. Natasha had been holding her breath, watching Barnes intently as he slowly rose again. She still didn't have a weapon and she wasn't sure what state he was in. He turned and looked at her darkly then wiped the blade on his pants before putting it away.

"Take that laptop. We are leaving." He growled.

Natasha jolted out of her near trance at that sentence. _That's_ why he had gotten his armor and weapons. Now that he had what he wanted, he was going to escape.

"No, hold on. There are more of them, he wasn't working alone." She stuck a hand out to sway him, walking from the wall terminal to her desk.

"Not my problem." Barnes answered indifferently, walking around the desk towards her. She heard the rifle clatter on his back and his heavy footsteps on the floor, until he stood towering over her. "Get everything packed up."

She gaped at him as if looking at a different person. "Did you just hear me? There are Hydra agents here. Hill just called for backup." She tried to open a communication line when Barnes took her right arm, pulling her to him.

"That is my point. They are everywhere in this corrupt place." He said in a low voice. "Why waste your time helping them?"

Her eyes were blazing now. "Not everyone is. I'm helping them because it's my job." Natasha looked angrily up to him, her heart beating faster. "And it's all I have."

Instead of answering he pressed the laptop in her hands then dragged her towards the door. "Wait!" She struggled, trying to stop him and wiggle away, not wanting to fully turn it into a fight. He stopped at the door getting ready to open it, when she finally stepped in front of him, putting her left arm into his vest.

"James, please." She looked up into his dark eyes. "I need to explain to them what happened here. You can go and leave by yourself, isn't that what you want?" Her voice was angry and pleading at the same time.

He looked down on her and sighed heavily.

She pushed back at his chest. "I'm going to meet with her." Natasha said firmly, but her eyes were starting to burn. "I got the file for you. That's all I'm asking."

Barnes still didn't reply, he was thinking now. Natasha was chewing her lip, standing in front of him, the laptop pressed into her side. He finally spoke up in a low voice.

"Go call your boss."

000

Hill had called for an impromptu meeting in one of the briefing rooms that Natasha was attending now. She sat around a table with Maria and her assistant Young, along with Simons and several members of his tactical team. Barnes had reluctantly joined them and stood glowering in the back by the door, his arms crossed, blatantly showing off the bionic one in the front for everyone to see.

The room had silenced when he had walked in behind Natasha in full armor, holding his rifle casually. Hill had gasped out loud and reached for her gun, but Natasha had defused the situation immediately after explaining what had happened in her office. Still, the overall tense mood remained fueled by other events, everyone looking tired and worn out. Hill was trying to appear calm with the flood of new information, but she looked exhausted as well for once. Too many things had transpired during the night. Aside from Grant, there had been another attempted attack on the lower levels. A rogue group of eight had tried to get access to the upper floors, but they had run into resistance from Simons' team. There had been casualties on both sides, with three of the insurgents managing to flee.

Hill was driving a hand through her hair, a loose strand sticking out. "We have them on camera. Eight of our own, all covered by Grant apparently." She paused. "They had been with us for a year or longer, background checks were all clear." Her voice repressed.

"They knew the building too well, it's the only reason those three got away." Simons said with a clenched jaw, he was seething with anger.

Hill finally flicked her tablet on, then started projecting files on the large screen they were facing. Eight profile photos appeared on the display, three of them highlighted, all men between twenty to mid-thirty wearing their dark blue uniforms. Natasha even recognized one of them, having seen him in the cafeteria just the other day. Her hands were clenching into fists.

"We have anything on them?" She asked into the round. Her eyes had started to burn from fatigue and she kept rubbing them. She truly didn't know how much more of this she could take. Maybe SHIELD should have been burned to the ground once and for all when the Triskelion fell. She tried brushing those unhelpful thoughts to the side, gritting her teeth. They were way into the morning hours by now and there was still no rest in sight.

"Their names turned out to be all false. Dead ends. We have nothing so far, no trace where they went." Hill answered with a strained voice. "They managed to shake off the team that followed their car. And the requested assistance from Metropolitan Police came too late. By the time we had a helicopter in the air they were gone."

"These Hydra splinter cells keep popping up, there has to be a base left in the area that's feeding them." Simons almost interrupted Hill.

"I thought they had been taken care of in the vicinity? We had detailed intel of their activities here, thanks to Pierce's reports." Young retorted, adjusting his glasses.

"Then dig a little harder and get me the info I need. We can't have them sitting on our doorstep, not in our current situation." Simons barked back at him. The tension had shifted to between the men, emotions running high. Simons had to deal with three casualties on his own team, but arguing wouldn't help the situation either.

Hill looked like she was about to say something, when Barnes suddenly stepped next to Natasha at the table, his bionic arm clanking hard on the surface, dropping the rifle in front of him as he sat down into an empty chair, his eyes glued on Maria. Natasha had flinched when his knee bumped into her leg. Guns were drawn and pointed at him immediately, clicking noises filling the room, nerves on the edge among Simons' team.

"I know at least two of them and I know where they are hiding." He said in a low voice, silencing everyone.

000

Natasha still couldn't say what had made him do it even after the meeting had been wrapped up. Offering his help went against everything he had been saying. Hill had been startled, just as everyone else in the room, but she had listened with growing interest. Barnes would lead them to the base where he had seen the men before, as long as he got full access to his weapons and could act autonomously and partly lead the team under his tactical command.

Hill had finally agreed and ended the meeting to start necessary preparations to have them move out within the next days to start an all out assault. Everyone had already left the briefing and Natasha was waiting on Barnes in the hallway. He had stayed behind to quietly talk with Hill about some of the details of where they were going to head.

Natasha didn't even consider going near her office, until that mess in there was taken care of. Her laptop was still clutched in her hands, leaning tiredly on a wall when Barnes was finally done. They walked side by side and he could've probably walked right out of the building with her, like he had threatened earlier, she wouldn't have it in her to argue. Instead they walked to his room where he pulled her to the couch to have her sleep on it. He had dropped his holsters and weapons, ready to sleep in the chair, when she clutched his vest to have him lie down with her. He wordlessly followed her, laying on his side to give her more space, while she faced him, pressing herself into his padded chest on the narrow sofa cushion. Her head ended up resting on his outstretched bionic arm, covered by her jacket to soften it a bit, her face nuzzled into the curve of his neck. The stubble was pricking her slightly, but the last thing on her mind was moving her head, breathing in his scent deeply.

She could barely keep her eyes open at this point, whispering to him in the darkness. "Don't you want to take a look?"

"At what?" He hoarsely whispered back and she could hear his voice vibrating in front of her.

"Your file."

He shifted slightly, his hand wrapping around her waist coming to a rest on her back. "There's time for that tomorrow." She could hear the fatigue in his voice as well, speaking somewhere above her. The air in his room felt cold, despite them wearing all their clothes. She finally reached down to take his coat and threw it over their shoulders as she pressed even deeper into him, her legs entangling with his. She fell asleep almost immediately after that, pressing her lips onto his throat and soaking up his body heat.


End file.
